My (49f) husband (45m) has NPD. I’ve been on the roller coaster of his moods for 20 years now. We’ve separated, and gotten back together a few times. I’m well versed in the cycle of abuse. I’ve made the conscious decision to stay and try to manage life through his mental health struggles because part of me has this f’d up belief that his illness is no different than if he had cancer and I would support him through that just the same.
I’ve learned the important lesson that if I want stability I need to create it for myself and my kids. For me that has meant separate bank accounts, separate phone plans, pretty much separate everything because anything he has access to is subject to him completely f’ing it up when the mood hits him and he needs to lash out and be destructive, or when he gets hyper fixated on something and blows money frivolously.
It’s not a perfect situation by any stretch. I’m not happy. I don’t have a loving partner to share the burden or joy of anything with. Most of the time I feel like I am living with a grown man child who is so emotionally damaged and stunted beyond repair. Other times I feel like I am living with a bomb that you just don’t know when it will go off.
I recently bought a house. I bought it, not we bought it. Up until now we have always rented because every two years he gets the itch to completely go off the rails and screw up his credit. I’ve worked hard to rebuild and insulate my own from any destruction he might cause. I finally, on my own, could give our kids and family a home of their own. Something I should feel proud of…
We moved in March 1. I wish I could say I felt excited and happy about the new house. Instead it has just added to my anxiety, meanwhile he has been playing happy homeowner introducing himself to all of the new neighbors and planing projects for himself like gardening and blowing money buying tools that are just not a priority at all…and then getting livid with me because I’m not “supporting his dreams” enough. He is 100% focused on appearances from the outside and not at all about things I really could use his help with on the inside like painting, setting up furniture, general house maintenance stuff.
Tonight I near lost my mind as I was being screamed at for “disrespecting him” because I was in the middle of working and could not drop everything that minute to devote my attention to some frivolous “problem” he was having with his gardening crap. Being disrespected is his complaint dejour right now. In the past it has been that I’m lazy, then I was not social enough, then I was negative all the time, or not affectionate enough…now I’m disrespectful.
I am disrespectful.
From the man who is incapable of showing me even a shred of respect or even dignity. If I ever even came close to blowing up on him in the same way he would throw the most epic temper tantrum and destroy as much of what I have busted my butt for just to punish me. He is a bully and the only way I have found that works to deal with him when he is like this is to talk to him as though he is an angry child who is not capable of understanding their own feelings or how their actions impact others.
The whole experience has left me exhausted. It has taken a tangible tole on my health. Visibly. I have MS, something he spent years accusing me of faking it or using it as an excuse even after coming with me for MRIs and meeting my neurologist. The last 5 years with him have been particularly hard and my health has gone downhill significantly, to the point he can no longer deny the fact that I am physically broken.
It’s easy to say leave him. Throw him out, etc. I’ve been there down that road and somehow came to the conclusion that this miserable, sad, empty, unfulfilled life with him in it is the better option. Even when I find him repulsive at times. I am just so damn tired from all of this. This is not the life I signed up for when we got married. He is not the person he pretended to be or even the person he pretends to be now with his smiling face for everyone on the outside to see.