I’m placing the same warning that I placed on my post, Help Me Understand, Alone on a Limb, because I feel it needs to be said.
This is a very, very sensitive topic for me. I’ve always considered what happens in the bedroom, should stay in the bedroom… private. But I need to talk about this. I need to talk about sex. I apologize profusely for the “too much information” vibe of this post.
And again, this post may be triggering for some readers.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * Proceed with caution. * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
I have to write about this morning before it all slips away to wherever my memories go when I’m this upset. I went to bed around 3 am. KR had already gone to bed, which is unusual for him as he normally doesn’t retire until around 5 am. After work last night, he stopped by a local bar with some friends from work for a burger; and I’m pretty sure he must have had a couple of beers because I smelled it on him as soon as I laid down in bed. That would, of course, explain why he went to bed so early. But as soon as I laid down, he woke up, and to give the briefest, least crude description possible, began molesting me. Something in my mind told me not to fight it because, after all, I haven’t been the most receptive to sexual advances lately; so I allowed it to continue. I don’t want to describe this in detail. I’ll only say that when his advances turned to oral sex, it became so rough that I had to stop him. He, of course, got very angry; and a huge argument ensued. I tried to escape by going into the bathroom, the only room in our house with a locking door. He immediately followed and busted open the door, telling me, “There’s no reason for this door to ever be locked!” Needless to say, we now no longer have a locking door in the entire house.
He proceeded to tell me everything wrong in our relationship and his life… again.* There’s always that “I love you, but….”
He doesn’t think that I’m making an effort to do anything. It isn’t enough that I do all the housework, cleaning, laundry, take care of the cats, do all the shopping and errands, keep the kitchen cleaned up after him, keep up with the finances, all while trying to run 2 blogs (unsuccessfully, lately) and take some much-needed personal time for myself through hobbies and therapy in order to get through this bout of depression, which, by the way, is kicking my ass.
He’s frustrated with my indecisiveness over the simplest things, like what meal to have for dinner or what to do on weekends. And speaking of food, he’s tired of doing all the cooking. I get it. He works all day and comes home wanting to simply relax. I should be making dinner each night. It’s just not that simple when you’ve struggled with food and eating for as long as I have. “I hate to cook” is the understatement of the year. I’ll agree that this is something that I finally need to address. I’m certain that my health is suffering as a consequence of my disordered eating habits, but bullying me about only makes them worse! I’ve eaten nothing since Tuesday night; and even then I only had 785 calories all day, 420 of which were from soda alone.
He thinks that therapy is what’s making “my” problems worse thereby making the issues between us worse. He’s very quick to judge therapy or any other form of psychiatric care as an unscientific method, regarding it as
a complete waste of time ineffective. Perhaps, a lot of my own misgivings about psychiatric medications are a result of hearing his views about them for so many years. I suppose it’s possible that I simply internalized them as my own in order to keep the peace; but I cannot ignore the fact that I am much more impulsive while on them. I’m not even sure if he believes that my mental health issues are “real,” thus invalidating an entire aspect of my life that affects me greatly.
KR also brought up our financial difficulties during his tirade. He said he’s tired of working his ass off and not being able to afford anything. Both vehicles need expensive repairs; we need to move out of this trailer and find something more habitable; he needs some dental work done; he wanted to buy his sister’s motorcycle. The list went on and on. Waiting on Social Security Disability is no longer an option. He wants me to find a job and go back to work. Even if I got SSD, it wouldn’t be enough to pull us out of the hole we dug ourselves into. The money just isn’t there. This terrifies me. I remember how badly I coped while working a full-time job. I’m not even sure anyone would hire me after an almost 9 year absence from the work force, but I feel like I have no choice in the matter anymore.
Then, he went on to say that he feels unwanted or unloved, that I make him feel undesirable. I can’t remember exactly what words he used, but that’s the gist of what he meant. This tied directly into his demands for sex and how bored he is with our sex life. He mentioned that when we first got together, I was up for trying “anything,” which ironically is when I first began to have serious flashbacks, during these “anythings.” After the first couple of months of protesting and finally giving in, he somehow saw my “giving in” as a sign that I enjoyed these acts. I don’t believe that I could have possibly made it any clearer from the beginning that I did not/do not enjoy oral or anal sex or pornography. It’s very, very triggering for me. I find it repulsive, degrading, and completely demoralizing.
I’ve known KR for almost 14 years, now. In all of those years, up until the last few months, he told me he did not want children. He changed his mind. Now, he’s telling me that he wants a child. Another terrifying thought to me because I don’t think I could bring a child into such a volatile relationship. KR is constantly saying how some people should not be allowed to breed for this reason or that. I honestly feel like I am one of those people due to my mental health issues. Children deserve better. They deserve to grow up in a stable, secure home with parents who can provide them with the love and support they require to thrive. I don’t feel like I have that left to give.
I’m sure there are plenty of things KR said that I cannot recall. Most of this I had heard before. The worst part is that the whole time he’s lecturing me with these types of tirades, I’m thinking to myself, “I’m irresponsible. I’m lazy. I’m unloving. I’m worthless. I’m bad. I don’t deserve to live. Conform… submit… obey… Everything is always my fault.” I really don’t need him to bully and harass me because I’m quite adept in that respect to do it to myself.
*This was the point where I stopped writing earlier today before calling my case manager in a panic and complete despair. She agreed to meet with me and had me speak to a crisis counselor. I’m on the waiting list for the respite care program here in our community because I agree with my case manager, KR and I need a break from each other, even if it’s just for a few days.