His last girlfriend was a bipolar as well, but he met her when she was manic and at her most charming. I was neither manic nor depressed when he met me. I was surfing a gentle sine wave. I was riding my bike every day, swimming in the pool for the rest of the afternoon, I had a life that I had carved out for myself with a lot of hard work and introspection. I had friends. Good friends that I now do not have. I do not know if this is the illness biting me in the ass, or if her has me so isolated from every one that people just stopped coming around.
He judges me on a daily basis. Because he is arrogant enough to point out that women/girls in big cities take the time to fix their hair just so, and make their lips look like Angelina Jolie after a collagen injection. I do not want to look like that. I want to look like me, just enhanced. I do not want to look like Mick Jagger. But, he says that is what turns him on (thank you Internet porn for warping my husband.) It didn’t used to be an issue. But, I still continue to be held to standards of female beauty that I just do not agree with. I have achieved a compromise with the all important lip liner. I just have to say that if he expects me to try to turn him on, he needs to bathe more than once a month. Why should I bother trying to be a porno slut if he can’t even keep his hygiene under control? That turns me off, completely.
I have hit the point where I really do not care if I turn him on or not. I am comfortable with the way I look. At the risk of sounding vain, I am not an unattractive woman. I know for a fact that I am beautiful. Both inside and out. Besides, having sex with him after nearly three months is going to feel like a one night stand. He’ll get up and go sleep on the couch, and I will fall asleep in the bed. It has been this way for months. He just refuses to sleep in the same bed with me. Oh well, benefit for me. I have less back pain than I did before 🙂 I can just feel my self losing faith in what is supposed to be a partnership, and a loving marriage. Granted, I can understand his position. He has inherited my anger and volatile temper along with a whole lot of hurt from life, in general. And, yes, I do lash out at him even though he has nothing to do with past issues, but the Internet Porn is all his doing. That is something he has done all on his own, and it has changed him from the man I used to know. He continues to view it for hours on end even though he knows that it hurts me and that I do not like it.
What happened to quid pro qou? He gives up some of the time he spends with the porn sluts, and keeps his hygiene up, and he might see a change in my attitude. but, as it stands now, nothing is going to change. i cannot change him, I can only change myself. And, he may not like that new self. I am half inclined to go with my mom today to file divorce papers today. I have rarely admitted defeat before I try to succeed, but this marriage seems hopeless. I am the only one who has to change, I am the only one causing problems between us (ummm, hello, hours on the Internet looking at other naked women, and watching them do anything; that one’s on him.) It just isn’t going to work between us. He is a big city guy stuck in a Southwestern “town” (never mind that there are 750,000 people living here.) I am never going to be able to be what he has decided he likes women to look like. I am who I am, and I am what I am. I have no apologies for that, I do not regret anything that I have done or has transpired to make me who I am. What I think is sad is that none of this had to happen. He could have stopped the porn stuff, and he could have been less adamant that I look like a big city girl. I am not from a big city, and therefore, I do take care with my makeup, but I have never had anyone with such an adamant and unwavering attitude that I must look like the big city women. I am fine with the way I look. Other men seem appreciative. He’s the only one who is dissatisfied with the way I look. And that argument is part of a larger whole of dysfunction in this relationship. it really isn’t about lipliner, it is about appreciation, and he might get what he wants if he would just bathe more often. This whole argument is about two people not wanting to do what it takes to make this work.
I am not the only one who has to change, he has his own issues that he should be working on, not focusing on my mental health issues. He says that I spend all my time thinking about my “illness,” I can guarantee you that he spends far more time on it than I do. Having Bipolar Disorder has just become part of my life; he’s the one who is hung up on it, and mentions nearly every day. And using lip liner is not going to help. As I said before, why should I bother when his basic hygiene is so bad? Why should I turn myself into one of his “fantasy” women if he won’t keep himself clean? I am giving up. I admit defeat. I admit that this failed because I was too defensive, too abrasive, and not enough of a whole lot of other things. I just cannot do this anymore. This argument is about respect, and compassion/appreciation for the other party. I have tried. I have failed.
A Bipolar Journey Through The Rabbit Hole 