It’s My Turn Now


Lately Crazy Jay and I have been getting into daily fights.  About silly little things.  It seems to Jay that I am constantly attacking him.  Constantly slicing at his heels.  Constantly making nasty comment after nasty comment.  It seems to me that Jay is taking something benign I say and twisting it so it sounds nasty in his head.  It seems to me that he is trying to pick fights over every little thing that’s said.  Then, when I try to explain that I didn’t mean it the way he was taking it, he gets mad and tells me that I’m invalidating him and telling him how to think and feel.  I’m pretty worn out.  I’m emotionally exhausted.  He says it’s killing him and he can’t take it anymore.  He tells me that I hold him hostage with my feelings and emotions.  That I hold him accountable for hurt he did not inflict, and am constantly ruining his day by “insisting” on taking things the wrong way.  I feel like he is doing the same thing.  He tells me that my attitude shows that I think I am the most important person, everyone needs to understand me, and I do not need to be held accountable for my actions.  I feel like he is doing the same thing.  He tells me all the time that I am misinterpreting things and taking them wrong, but gets mad when I tell him the same thing.  He feels the need to take everything personally (even political events that unravel on TV), but gets mad when he perceives me as doing the same thing.  We have been going round and round and round again for weeks now.

I came to a new understanding while I was driving home for lunch today.  I have been wondering why he has to make everything such a big deal.  Why he has to blow everything out of proportion.  Why he can’t be more understanding towards me.  That’s when I remembered:  He has been.  He has been more understanding of me than anyone could be expected.  At the beginning of the year, he endured months on end of me being ruled 100% by my emotions.  He endured the constant verbal attacks when I didn’t know why I was angry.  He endured the long crying fits and the not-so-secret cutting I was engaging in.  He endured me yelling at him and taking everything wrong.  Even when it was a compliment meant to make me feel better, I found a way to take it as an insult. He sat quietly while I went through six to eight months of up and down roller coaster emotions and sheer insanity.  He didn’t know from one day to the next if I may try to kill myself on purpose, or if I may cause serious damage by accidently cutting into my skin too deep.

Take it back even further, to the beginning of 2011.  I was sure I was a psychopath, and acting without regard to anyone’s feelings.  I was purposefully hurtful to the husband who stood by me.  I would TRY to lash out at him.  I would TRY to push his buttons.  I was sure during that time that I was going to divorce him.  I don’t even know why I thought that.  I flirted with men and dressed in a way that I had no business dressing.  I went to see the Chip and Dales dancers perform.

Through all of this, Jay just loved me.  He may have lost his temper every now and then, not that he could be blamed.  He may have been drinking more than he should, not that he could be blamed.  He slept in a separate room at my request.  He left me alone while I was home at my request.  He never once left me.  He loved me.  He knew I was going through a crazy time.  He knew the person he saw acting this way wasn’t the woman he married.  He knew I would come back.

Jay loved me steadfastly the entire time, and all the while HE was battling demons of his own.  He has bipolar disorder.  He has PTSD.  He has borderline personality disorder.  He is the adult child of an alcoholic, which I understand can affect a person’s thoughts and personality.  He loved me even better than a mentally fit man could have.  He was more patient than a man without all his difficulties would have been.  He stuck with me when everyone else around me was dropping like flies.  He showed me love when no one else would.

After going through at least two years of me bouncing around, totally off my rocker, his cracks have started showing.  He used to be very good at containing his crazy side.  Not so much anymore.  But who could blame him?  At this point in my life, I am in a relatively good spot.  I am more self-aware than ever before.  I am more stable than ever before (not that that’s saying much).  I am more positive than ever before (again, not saying much).  I know that I am blessed to have the husband I do.  Especially after all we have been through.  I think it’s my turn, now.  It’s my turn to stand by my crazy-ass spouse and show him how much I love him and am committed to him.

I know that it’s going to be difficult, especially as I still struggle with controlling my emotions and I no longer have the benefit of Dialectical Behavior Therapy or individual therapy.  I know that I am going to have to swallow hurt after hurt.  I know that I am going to have to overlook things that I would get yelled at if I did.  I know I am going to have to forgive and get past a lot.  I know this is going to be incredibly difficult.  This may be one of the hardest things that I have ever had to do, but that is how much I love Jay.  I know that I will fail at this, most likely miserably at first.  But with the help of God (because I sure can’t do this on my own), I will steadfastly show Jay love the way he showed me love.  I know I am going to be with Jay till one of us dies (and I know the other will follow shortly after), so I am going to do what I can to bend and twist so that those days can be good.  If both of us are constantly letting our crazy emotional side take over, our marriage is going to be miserable.  I’ve had my fill of crazy days.  I had at least two full years of them while Jay held my hand and whispered that he loved me.  I can do the same for him.  I love you, Crazy Jay.  We are twisted fingers, deep divers and schlieren.  Apparently I’m also your wench who needs to fetch your grog, whatever that is.

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Categories: Bipolar, Borderline Personality Disorder, BPD, Health, Life, Marriage, Mental Illness, PTSD, Relationships, Self Harm | 7 Comments

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7 thoughts on “It’s My Turn Now

  1. Rooting/praying for you both.

    Stay calm — pray ( a lot) — and count to 10…or maybe 20…before you lash out.
    And if all else fails, fight in the nude.

    My beautiful wife of 18 years have gone through a lot, but those rules have helped us…and no, I didn’t come up with any of them.
    🙂

    • Thanks for your prayers and suggestions. We’ll get through this with God’s help…no question!

      • I’m confident you will.
        Good, faithful people usually do…

        A healthy dose of prayer AND patience usually helps, though.
        🙂

  2. This woman is insane. I am a SAINT! Ask my mother…or the Bible. My mother is senile and, thanks to Christ, GOD overlooks everything. WHOOP!

    My INSIDES scream at themselves. Every time I feel overlooked or explained away, I remember every night you mention and want to execute a ridge-strike, either perpendicular or parallel (imagine the Karate Kid Layers of Ice scene), and break something…and you know better than anyone that I am harsher with my hands behinds my back.

    On the other side, i read what you wrote and tell myself that I did nothing extraordinary. I did only what one does for one they love, and none too graciously. Nice of you to say I lost my temper “sometimes.” “When A Men Loves A Woman”? “A Beautiful Mind”? i was offered BOTH those roles but was told that I was too devestatingly handsome and that Crow(e)(wanna fight, bitch?) and Garcia would enable the STORY to be more evident. I could have done all 18 Mission Impoosibles and 27 Rambos, too…if I had undergone surgery to remove 8 inches from my height. Stallone is SO vain and OMG…isn’t my hair better?

    You see me trying? OK, GOD…dammit..bring me some grog!

    Can we just agree from now on that you will ccept that I know EXACTLY what I am doing and that the best thing for you to do is just to lie flat on your back (or on your knees) and do EVERYTHING I say? It’s not my fault! I don’t make up the rules. I just enforce them to my advantage whenever possible.

    Brainbrain sleepy…knock for sex or food.

    • What you did WAS extrodanary. Any other “man” would have left.

      You hair absolutely IS better!! I know you were offered those roles. Don’t worry, you will find something where your beauty is appreciated and will add to the movie plot instead of distracting from it. In the mean time, why don’t you just rock out with the band? One bowl (plate? spoonful? barrel?) of grog coming up!

  3. And…just so you know….I will NOT apologize for my crack showing. My pants are loose. Stop making me fix the sink! We live in a hotel for Pete’s sake…can’t I just call The Desk?

  4. Pingback: Some Honesty About One of My Issues « Struggling with BPD

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