The pros and cons of separating, almost 9 months on...

So many Cassandras ponder over the benefits of leaving. Those of us with children know that there will be sacrifices that need to be made if we leave, we also know that exposing our children to his recklessness and/or negativity, without us there as a buffer, is going to be tough. 

When he lived with us, I used to stress over the house a lot. I'd get anxious about whether or not it was clean or tidy, I'd be quite stringent about my cleaning mornings, Peter would vacuum on Saturdays and we have a lot of floor space to cover. I even had a cleaning itinery. I was nervous about becoming a single parent as I knew that there would be more to do and likely, less time to do it. Peter is highly practical and I hate vacumming. He would also over-see breakfast in the mornings with the children whilst I showered and got myself ready for the day. The thought of being solely responsible for this made me so anxious and yet, our mornings our now calmer than they've ever been! No shouting. No upsets. No stress. 

My house now is messy and nowhere near as clean. But I don't use my cleaning itinery any more! And I don't stress if I don't have time to clean either (I'm currently lying in a warm bath having not cleaned the house in 8 days). It will amaze you how much control you'll endeavour to seek over the things that you are allowed to control. Because, quite frankly, often, they are the ones in the driving seat. Whether that is passively, manipulatively or directly. Cleaning was something I could have control over because he never valued it.

I have asked Peter for the passwords to our utilities accounts, which he has shared with me. I have also tried to switch the accounts to my name. Surprise, surprise he never responds to those requests because Peter is sitting in the background overseeing all our useage and all our spending. He is also still deciding which companies we're registered with and he does not communicate any of this to me. I am still, to some degree, under his control. He is reluctant to sell the house and financially, fully go our separate ways. He walks in and out of our house and our lives as he feels. He has his own private space at his parents' house who he lives with for free and his space is completely separate from me. He tells me he would be happy to continue this dynamic indefinitely. But I would never be free, would I? How would I ever move on and meet someone else? Get married? Is this part of his plan? 

Mortgage rates are at an all time high and it makes financial sense for me to continue living in this house for the time being. I feel like his lodger. Both of us have increased our salaries this year to accommodate our future separation, but financially, we will still be worse off.

Sharing the children with him devastates me at times. Twice a week, they stay with him and his parents over night, I lose a weekend day every week with them, but the space away is needed when I'm doing everything else on my own. I worry for their welfare when they're in his care, I worry for their safety. I worry he won't respond to illness or injury. His driving terrifies me.

Everything is messier and harder practically, because he was so practical at times. Emotionally, I miss my children when they're not with me, but I don't miss him. I don't miss the miserable hope and disappointment of connection everyday, the sexual rejection, the sulking and passive aggressive remarks, the obstructions. The acceptance of a rubbish, stagnant relationship. Ironically, I do miss adult company and sometimes his adult company because often, he was the only adult I'd have a full conversation with some days.

I am also more free than I've ever been. I somehow have more space and time for swimming, yoga, meet-ups with friends, social groups. Peter used to tell me how he'd never stop me from doing anything I wanted to do, that he would always care for the children (provided it was convenient for him of course!!). But, when you feel like you have the weight of the world on your shoulders, time doesn't feel very free, even when it is. Emotionally, I was always busy. My free time was spent researching him, his quirks, his ways and trying to work out what was wrong with us as a couple. Always wondering, is it me?

I've started listening to music again, which is highly healing. Pink's "All I know So Far," and the lyrics "you throw your head back and you spin in the wind, let the walls crack, 'cuz it lets the light in" gives me goosepimples; my nervous system, beginning to light up again instead of shutting down out of self protection. At first, I was daunted at the prospect of cooking for one and I lived on eggs and toast when the children weren't here. But now, I'm making myself the meals that they would never eat, looking forward to adult, nutritious food at the end of a long day. 

I believe that Peter made life difficult when we were together, playing on my anxieties. I could never make myself vulnerable, because I felt he used my vulnerabilities to get at me. If there was something I didn't like, he would do it more- antagonise me. Then make me feel ridiculous. 

"I was only helping by doing x, y, z." He gave me more work to do. He would mindlessly load the washing machine and then go out for the day with his father, tying me to the house all afternoon- drying, folding, putting away when he knew that I had plans to go out too. If I left it all for him, he'd leave it in a creased up pile and eventually put everything away in the wrong places. Our daughters' clothes all mixed up in each other's cupboards. Mine hanging loosely over a chair in the office.

"Just leave the washing to me," I'd say, but he wouldn't. I'd be labelled "controlling" despite my primary desire just being that he refrained from putting extra work load on me. Surely, I have the right to control that? Because really, he was the one controlling me and my time. I genuinely believe he took great enjoyment in messing up my systems in a bid to cause heightened stress and anxiety then he could call me crazy. I don't miss any of it. 

Part of me just accepts the way things are  currently. He's finally out of my space (most of the time). It isn't perfect, but maybe this is just how it needs to stay for a while. I can keep my girls close and support his regular, short bursts of time with the children to keep them safe and him content and civil. I don't think he enjoys fathering deep down anyway, he's just endeavouring to do what's right. If he gave in to his true desires, aside from his need for control and possessiveness,  I don't think we'd see him for dust. 

Overall, I'm glad he's gone. 

There's a clearing in the dull skies overhead and the sun is shining on my face at last. Hope and future love awaits. 

My therapist said to me once, "sometimes, you have to prioritise and safeguard future you and that means doing things that present you may find uncomfortable."

I knew that I'd made the right decision when she said that. 

The difference between autism and arseholeism

A friend of mine has a husband who is autistic. He has his quirky ways, his prized possessions, he likes his routines, his diet is pretty unimaginative.

But, he adores his wife. 

And if she tells him she's upset, he believes her and works to find a solution; he advocates for her in public; he has her back; he cooks and cleans; he shows her that he loves her.

I know that autism affects people in different ways, but it has made me consider that autism isn't a built in excuse to be a bad husband. That if a husband is unwilling to work on himself or his marriage, then actually, that's arseholeism. 

-When you tell your autistic husband that you're unhappy and you want to work with him to find a solution, but instead he sulks, closes the door on you and focuses purely on himself. That's arseholeism.

-When your autistic husband is verbally and physically abusive towards you. That's arseholeism. 

-When he 'forgets' or dismisses your birthday? That's arseholeism. 

-When he refuses to help with the children or housework or anything that causes him any sort of inconvenience either by avoiding it or arguing the toss out of his responsibilities. That's arseholeism.

-When he can spend quality time with his friends or his special hobbies but not with you? That's arseholeism.

-When you have to convince him to share his finances with you. That's just arseholeism.

-When he diminishes your opinions and feelings because he doesn't like them or they don't fit his confined way of thinking? That's arseholeism.

-When you repeatedly attend therapy because your level of wellbeing is so low in this marriage and he refuses therapy himself? That's arseholeism.

-When he keeps you all for himself and refuses to leave or makes it difficult for you to leave, yet he refuses a loving intimate relationship with you? That's emotional abuse caused by arseholeism.

-When you have to remind him that your time is not up for his taking, that you need time out too because he hasn't even considered that you are a human with needs outside of family life. That's arseholeism. 

-When he refuses to celebrate special occasions like anniversaries? That's arseholeism. 

- When he knows deep down that relationships are difficult for him, but he masks and love bombs and ropes you into one with him anyway only to retreat from it once he "has" you, that's arseholeism. 

- When his family are disrespectful towards you but he can not see through his own obligations and loyalties towards them and expects you to be more tolerant of them. That's arseholeism. 

- When he closes down all communication with him around your unhappiness. That's arseholeism. 

- When he spoils holidays because deep down he doesn't like change and he takes it out on you rather than finding a healthier outlet for his own anxiety, that's arseholeism. 

- When you're ill and he doesn't care for you, or worse, punishes you through sulking, silence or outward disapproval. That's arseholeism. 

I'm sure there are plenty more scenarios that women have become exposed to whilst in these one-sided, careless relationships. But it's important that we don't pin all of his negative behaviour on autism. Some men may not feel the level of empathy that we might expect in loving relationships, but when we communicate our upset and dislike of something, he has a choice. He can choose to find solutions, he can choose to listen, he can choose to validate her, even if he doesn't feel it. 

Gaslighting, denying or arguing our feelings away is abusive. It's selfish. It's neglectful. Let's not use autism as an excuse for abuse. 

Getting Comfortable with his Discomfort

I find his discomfort incredibly difficult. 

But, this is what makes us Cassandras great lovers and partners in the first place: we want to make life lovely for the ones we love. Isn't that what anyone in a romantic relationship wants to do, initially anyway? If you prioritise them 100% and they prioritise you 100%, surely you can't go far wrong? This is my theory anyway.

It was at the point when I was exhausted, neglected, depressed and worn down that I realised that Peter was protecting his own comfort at all costs, leaving me in intense discomfort a lot of the time and nobody was looking after me. I realised that I needed to become selfish to survive. I had to stop loving him purely out of survival.  This does not make for a successful romantic relationship. Ever. I'm well acquainted with discomfort, having grown up with an alcoholic parent. Despite tons of therapy and self help, I didn't realise that I was still tolerating my own discomfort so "well" until extremely recently.

It is still foreign to me to accept Peter's discomfort in return for my own comfort. I feel immense guilt, a sense of failure, self doubt, self loathing, selfishness. I feel I've wronged him. He makes me feel I've betrayed him: the sulking, the silent treatment, the body language. However, I'm having to tolerate Peter's discomfort to keep my children safe from his erratic driving; his lack of danger awareness, his emotional neglect and exposure to his mother's narcissism. It's a tough balance because no matter what I do, I feel a sense of unease at my decision making. This weekend, Peter had wanted the children to accompany him on a family trip and I told him no. I have thought of him alone, his cousins and sister all accompanied by their young children and him alone and a bit lost without any of us there. I have to remind myself that he has repeatedly chosen his loyalty to the FOO (family of origin) over his loyalty to me and our children and that this is his consequence.

Peter isn't used to consequences. 

He has been quite spoiled by his parents in some ways, having lived a rather privileged childhood filled with long-haul holidays; racing cars funded by his father; large houses; tree houses; play rooms filled with the latest toys and gadgets; deposits for houses and cars paid for in adulthood. Peter's childhood has lacked in emotion and love, but he has never lacked in material things and big experiences. He was supported and funded by his parents to partake in a range of hobbies and outlets as a child and I doubt if he ever asked for something, he was ever told no. 

Self entitlement is an ugly attribute, but it dominates Peter's motivations; he believes that poor people are born of laziness rather than circumstance, with this comes an innate superiority complex; he believes that he is deserving of a comfortable life. This mindset conflicts greatly when the man I know expected things to work in his favour always, despite the poor effort he made in love. He is an exception to his own belief systems. 

Yesterday, I received a text from Peter asking me to cut his hair for him having always done this previously. I didn't reply for hours. Intensely going over whether to agree or not to- my head knowing that this was not appropriate and my heart just wanting to please him, make him happy. I thought of the extra childcare he'd provided this week and had to remind myself that no, he's their father, I don't need to sabotage my personal boundaries for feelings of obligation towards him for purely looking after his own children! 

I responded eventually very authentically. I said that I felt very guilty for saying no but that I needed to protect my own feelings. In the past, I've stuck to my boundaries authoritatively at times and felt like I've been a hypocrit when I've needed him and dropped those boundaries again. This time was different. Telling him that I felt guilty helped me feel a bit more comfortable somehow. Peter actually responded with an apology for putting me in an awkward position, which felt positive.

However, we all know how these types of men operate and I was soon to blame. He was unable to make an appointment at the barbers that evening as he was looking after the children. He tried to convince me to keep the children longer as they were "playing nicely" but I had my own plans, meaning that he couldn't go off and find a barber at the last minute. His demeanor suddenly changed as a result and I was met with sulking and one word answers when he collected the children. Because things hadn't worked out for him, because I hadn't facilitated his hair cut or a last minute barber dash due to his own disorganisation, suddenly I was to blame afterall. Peter's parents have always organised everything for him all his life, before I came along and now here I was, not facilitating his lack of planning and organisation anymore. How dare I? 

That old familiar feeling of guilt started to creep in again and I had to remind myself that his hair is not my responsibility. It should never have been my responsibility. We are separated, why on earth would it be my responsibility now?! 

I ask myself what will become of Peter in his newly found discomfort? Will he give up? Will he find his motivation after all? Or will his parents swoop in and save him at some point? One thing I know for sure is that if I don't look out for myself and notice my own discomfort and unease, nobody will and it is time to accept that this is bound to come at the detriment of Peter and the cushioned life he knows so well.

I know that he will be livid with me on his return from the family trip. He'll hate to have attended the event without the front of the family man to bolster his image. Surrounded by families, it will be completely my fault that he has felt uncomfortable and missed having the children by his side. I sit here now, reminding myself that his discomfort is not my responsibility anymore. He could choose to take responsibility for his experience over the weekend, reflect on his behaviour and choices over the years which have put him in this position in the first place, but he won't do that. 

I sit tight, knowing that there'll be an underhanded punishment for me at some point and that his parents and sister will be fuelling his entitlement over the weekend. But, life could have been so much different had he have chosen to lovingly and assertively prioritise his family over just thinking of himself.