I've been putting off writing this post for a while now, I guess that when you write something down it confirms it, sometimes just a signature will do (like divorce, or bankrupsty). Words are like a mirror or a replay button.
The relationship I ofter talk about is over. Five years of intensity, of bliss, of danger, of closeness, of car crash, of lust, of extremity is gone.
It was the last of the this is the last of the last chances with his binge drinking, his mania (yes, it's ironic, a maniac who can't deal with other people's mania).
Probably the hardest decision I've had to make because, the difficulty loving someone with a split personality (actual diagnosis Borderline Personality Disorder, secondary Depressive PD, with (Binge) Alcoholism thrown in the bag. It's a bit like "Buy two get a third free") is that 90% of the time they are all the lovely things that you fell in love with them for, but the other 10% is when the "stuff" happens. It is this "stuff" that gets Mr 90% into trouble, and you blame Mr 90% for "stuff" that Mr 10% did. And 9 times out of 10 Mr 90% can't remember what Mr 10% did.
I think I swallowed a calculator there.
I've had enough of the "stuff"
Unfortunately you can't put in your diary when they turn into Mr 10% and make sure you're out of town, because you don't (and neither do they) know when one of their triggers is around the corner.
Ironically I had a couple of articles published last year where I talk about how relationships where both partners with mental health can work, but this one just couldn't. I tried to get us couple therapy but they just didn't want to work with two diagnosis's in one room.
I'm so sad, he was my best friend, my rock, my clown.
I think I'll be listening to What Become Of The Broken Hearted on repeat for about three days now. But it could be worse, I could be listening to The Aggadoo on repeat for three weeks instead...