Hope is the enemy

The times when he is 'playing nice' are actually harder on me than total cold disengagement. I feel so much better when I don't interact with him.

On Sunday, we actually appeared to resolve something. And he has really been helpful with day to day household needs. But that is a far cry from dealing with the fundamental problems.

He still thinks it is perfectly fine to tell me what I am doing, what I think and what I feel. He ran a whole trip on me Sunday. He told me that I had 'berated' him the night before. That then I felt good because I had gone off on him and that was why I was now feeling happy. None of it - none of it - had an ounce of truth in it. In fact he had the whole thing completely wrong.

I did not 'berate' him, I expressed some of the pain I felt when he had done certain things. It did not feel good, I felt horrible. I was happy on Sunday, but that was because I had spent a lot of time work through my feelings and adjusting my thinking to disconnect from him once again.

I didn't tell him what was really going on with me because Patricia Evans advises not to explain in response to someone who is defining you. She says that this just gives them the impression that it is okay to define you, but in this instance they were wrong. I did tell him he was wrong, and tried to point out how illogical it is to think he could know what I was doing, thinking and feeling, but he does not agree. He says it is his 'intuition'. No amount of reality will convince him otherwise.

He said that he had read a little bit in a John Gottman book about power sharing in a marriage. That's good. But I told him that in order for me to begin to feel safe with him, I need to know that he is reading or doing something everyday. He nodded and was sweet and said he would.

Monday - nothing.

Tuesday - nothing.

Wednesday - nothing.

Same old avoidance. Same old saying one thing and doing another.

I have to admit that those old hopeful feelings come up again. That desire to feel safe, the desire to feel loved and cherished. Hope, has become my enemy.

At least hope for a happy life with him is the enemy. Hope for me, hope for a better life for myself is the hope I need to nurture.

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