Looking
back over my life, I realize how often my role-induced need to take care of
people has led me to be involved with N’s and other personality disordered people over and over
again. For years, I’ve been convinced
that my spouse was P/A and that if he could just get the right help, he (and
we) would be OK. He would go to a counselor for a few
sessions and then stop. This was a
pattern – he’d do just enough to make sure that I wouldn’t leave (and I was
pretty obviously easy to trick), then he’d stop and revert to old patterns. A few years ago, one of his short-term
counselors told him that he wasn’t P/A, but that he had an attachment
disorder. I scoffed, thinking that this
was yet another way that he could trick me into feeling sorry for him. A few weeks ago, however, a counselor that I
trust and respect told me the same thing – that since he behaves this way only
towards ME, he isn’t P/A; he has an attachment disorder.
From what I
know of attachment disorder, this pretty much explains why he has HUGE problems with intimacy –
and I mean intimacy across the board, not just physical intimacy. I know very little about his childhood and
early adulthood except what I learned from his mother. I don’t know how he feels about things most
of the time – and neither does he. For
years, I told him how I thought he was feeling based on his body language and
facial expressions. He’d deny it if he
viewed the feeling as negative…
Aack!
So here we
are now – he’s been in a care facility for about 9 months. I’ve spent that time getting well – I was
completely stressed out – one of the issues with attachment disorder is that
the person CANNOT do what they’re asked to do – it puts too much power in the
hands of a person they don’t trust. So
anything I asked him not to do HAD to be done.
With a smirk… Yes, it sounds
familiar, doesn’t it? But it means that
I can’t keep him safe – unless I do backwards requests, which I don't want to do because it makes me feel conniving and untrue to myself.
So here’s
what’s been going on – we spend a good chunk of our income on this facility –
so I was thinking (You’re not going to believe this…) that since I’m feeling so
much better, that maybe I should bring him home and save that money, then move
back to our home country and live together there… I
had the senae to speak with some friends who thought that the whole thing was a TERRIBLE idea
and I talked to the counselor who I trust who thought that I was just a wee bit
out of my mind – but it wasn’t until I realized that I was starting to have a
lot of anxiety again that I woke up, gave myself a good shake, and realized
that I was again trying to take care of him to the point of jeopardizing my own health.
He’s not
going to change – I’ll always be his mother in his eyes (a woman who wasn't very loving to him), I’ll always be the one who has to give in and do things his way,
I’ll always want to find things that will help him even though I don’t think he
really wants to get well –I’ve struggled with his “invalidism” our whole
married life. (He has a disease that’s
incurable, but there are ways to make life better within that frame – but he
agrees to follow a particular diet, for instance, and then sneaks around and
eats junk, etc.) He remains a child in
many ways and NOTHING I DO WILL CHANGE THAT.
EVER.
So – we’re
not moving back, he’s staying in the facility, and I’m just going to go home
and visit the kids, friends, and family more often. I like the way my life is now, even though I
miss my kids, friends, and some family like crazy. I’m finally well – I want to stay that
way!!!
