Last time James and I had our biggest argument so far, and I still don’t know whether our relationship is going to continue. I will explain what happened and then I will discuss it further.
I have been feeling unwell lately, I have a kidney infection and I have been unusually tired. Yesterday, I found a chest of drawers for sale locally on facebook (we have been looking for a chest of drawers for AGES for the bedroom as there is no room for his clothes). It seemed a bargain and was on the way home, but the time-scale she wanted it to be picked up within meant I wouldn’t be able to pick up the antibiotics I needed for my infection. I chose to get the drawers because I knew James would be happy he could finally have somewhere to put his clothes.
When I got there, they weren’t as I expected. A lot smaller, not solid wood, completely not what I was looking for. But the girl had made such an effort to put them out in the garden I felt bad, so took them anyway (I know she probably did this on purpose but I have always been bad in this sort of situation).
When I got home, James kept making jokes about the chest of drawers, which was fine. Then I said to him, “stop it, because I’m starting to feel as though I shouldn’t have bothered”, to which he replied, “Maybe you shouldn’t have”.
I took offence at this, because I had gone out of my way to get this for him, despite how shit is was, with time I could have spent getting antibiotics, and money I didn’t have. I took offence, and walked off. He told me it was just a joke, and I told him that Jokes were supposed to be funny. He told me I was being melodramatic, I told him I was just trying to tell him how I felt.
We were supposed to be leaving at 7pm to go for a meal with my parents and James then informed me he wasn’t coming. Now, he wasn’t to know this, but there is no way I would have been able to go to the meal without him. 1) I felt sick about the argument so didn’t want to eat anything and 2) I hate leaving things unfinished and unsettled. I called my mum and told her I was ill and we wouldn’t be coming.
The tears then arrived so I sat outside in the conservatory for a while on my own to try to get myself together, before going back in and trying to sort it out with James.
His side of things was:
1) He cracked a joke, to which I took offence and stropped off (being immature)
2) I made a big drama out of nothing
3) The only solution is for him to never make a joke again
My side of things was:
1) He cracked a joke which I found offensive and stropped off (perhaps this was my mistake, but previously I have tried to tell him when jokes have offended me and he just says, ‘For fucks sake, it was only a joke!’ [I thought jokes were meant to make people laugh, not upset them])
2) I tried to communicate with him and talk to him about how I was feeling, but he was not willing to do this and made me feel as though I was making a drama when in fact I was just trying to talk to him about things
The conversation continued, and he did his ‘normal’ thing of telling me he couldn’t be bothered to talk about it, he didn’t give a shit and the conversation was boring. When we have a row and I try to talk it out, like I need to, and like I have learnt to deal with things through my recovery, he just seems to not be interested at all.
I tried to explain to him that because of my past sometimes I make mistakes in the way I behave and the way I react to things and I needed him to make some allowances for me so I can learn. This was a big thing for me to open up and admit to but he just said that we all have a past and I am no different to anyone else.
He told me that either his jokes are shit, or I don’t have a sense of humour. I don’t know the answer to this one. I try to spend a lot of time being a good person and he likes to make fun of people who are different (fat, ugly, disabled). I don’t like it but I can’t ask him to change because that is the person he is. Maybe we are just not the right people for each other.
When I repeated, again, that his joke offended me, what was I supposed to do, not react at all? He told me that maybe we shouldn’t be in a relationship if I didn’t find his jokes funny. I agreed.
When he get in to a row, he is just so defensive and I think aggressive but he did not agree. His manner is cold, rude and nasty, and it really feels a though he doesn’t care. Throughout this argument I continued to cry, I just couldn’t stop the tears coming.
He told me that I was free to go off and tell everyone how much of a c*nt my boyfriend was, and that it was obviously all his fault, because my mind games had manipulated it to be that way. I told him I wasn’t trying to play mind games, I was just trying to talk to him, to which he just kept responding “You’re very clever aren’t you”. It felt as though he was implying I knew exactly what I was doing and I was manufacturing/manipulating the whole conversation – which couldn’t have been further than the truth. I was hurting so much, I was in utter turmoil, I couldn’t even remember what had been said 10 minutes ago because my mind had blocked it out, and I was beginning to dissociate.
If he thinks I was manipulating the conversation, either he doesn’t know me at all, or I don’t know myself. At this point in my recovery I need someone who is going to be mindful and make allowances, not someone who is going to push me to my absolute limits. I need someone who understands me, not someone who tells me I am manipulating and ‘clever’.
He told me not to worry, that he would no longer have a sense of humour, and that he would be the subservient boyfriend I obviously wanted. I told him I was not interested in having a relationship with a subservient boyfriend and he told me that perhaps he should leave. I told him maybe he should.
I continued to cry. He asked me if that was it. I broke down even further, and asked him whether I looked as though I wanted it to be it. I asked him if was really what he wanted, he didn’t reply. I asked him when he was leaving, he told me aggressively “As soon as possible”. I asked him if he wanted to leave. He told me he had already replied to that question, I told him he hadn’t, he told me again to stop playing mind games.
I was so confused, and hurting so, so much, and couldn’t stop crying. I was aware that I looked like a complete mess but by now I was past the point of no return. He was going to leave me anyway so there was no point in hiding my weakness from him.
He went up to bed, and I said goodnight to him, which he ignored.
Half an hour later I went upstairs and sat at the end of the bed, but I could tell by his breathing that he was already asleep. In that moment, I felt totally and utterly broken and alone. The urge to harm myself was overwhelming but I resisted it.
Instead, I went downstairs and took 10mg of Diazepam (thankfully I had held it back when I had my ‘meds amnesty’) and settled down on the sofa. I now think I know what people mean when they use the term ‘broken heart’.
It was a long night and I woke up at around 3am to take more Diazepam. I finally woke up in the morning at around 7am and felt like death. I thought the best thing to do would be pack some things and stay in my parents house for a couple of days to give James some space (My parents are away camping this week, the house James and I live in belongs to me but he has no where else to go).
He obviously feels as though this whole thing is orchestrated by me, and all my fault, and who am I to argue that point? I am a mess and always will be. How can I ever say I am in recovery when I don’t know what the hell I am doing or saying and then can’t even remember it afterwards? I am obviously not stable enough to be in any form of relationship. I haven’t reached the point of suicidal ideation yet but I desperately wish some accident would happen to take me away from this life I am so clearly wasting.
Every time I try to discuss it with him he tells me I am just causing more drama. How can I talk things through if every time I open my mouth it is simply causing drama and not trying to communicate my feelings which is my aim?
He told me he didn’t know why I was going to my parents because it was me that had caused the whole thing. I had previously apologised multiple times for ‘stropping off’ after being offended at the joke and had explained why I had done so (Borderline/weird reactions to things). I asked him what else I could do. He told me nothing, he needed to ‘get over it’ in his own time.
By this point I had started to cry again. I felt sick (I hadn’t eaten since yesterday lunch time and neither did I want to as I felt nauseas). I asked him again if he was going to leave and he told me that it was my decision. He said he was only going to leave if I wanted him to. I told him I had to go to work, we hugged and I left.
I understand that maybe be needs some time to ‘get over this’ but when he does, I won’t have. He has left me in bits, and I don’t know how to put myself back together again. I am a broken soul, and I realise now I have been broken for a very long time.