I’m not doing so hot. Quite the opposite, actually. I feel like I’ve been set up by my life partner. He is a skilled liar. I don’t know what reality is, but yet, I’ve got to wrangle my self in all on my own. Reached out to his mom for help. I spend more effort trying to help strangers on the internet. It’s not real.
There’s no way this is the truth, that my life partner and his family are manipulating me to an end. It’s possible they are using me to get him disability. I don’t know though. I think to myself, “why this way?” It’s clear to me, having lived with him for three years now, that he is not just manipulating me but rather he is playing another, unknown party. Is it doctors? Police? I see how he lied which got him into the hospital.
As the cashier I bought booze from cross-talked to me while on Facetime, “he’s getting big, fast.” I feel like it is my mission to get arrested again, to get famous. And he does this, skillfully. Warps my reality. I have no clue what to do. And what do I do when the FBI kicks my door down? Talk? Am I supposed to betray him? Is this a test? Am I to be Jesus when he is forcing me to be Judas? To say nothing is as simple as going to take what was and it is how it be and do, whatfor mostly that which is.
His mom might come here today, I just realized. She doesn’t understand that I see right through her. I see where my life partner learned to lie. She threatened me, skillfully, so she always has plausible deniability. She technically didn’t threaten me, just like Byoomth is technically a Buddhist with the amount of weed he smokes. That’s what I’m dealing with; liars that lack self-awareness but are skilled enough that they can believe their own lies.
She said her family would be violent because I was violent with my life partner. Dismissed my retelling of his egregious violations of basic morals with a wave of her hand. Oh. So that’s one reason he lies; they can’t help but beat the shit out of each other and lie about it after. But I’m the Savage, and thus I know what true motherly love is like. She treats my life partner as if he is something to be controlled; wrangled. Unideal for personal benefits. That’s what they’re good at; being awful to each other. It’s the only explanation for how my life partner does the things he does; he will do anything so I conform to his will because that is what he was inadvertently trained/raised to do.
It’s tragic, but even he does not acknowledge his shortcomings. He is perfect. The narcissist. And I say this as one, knowing we attract each other. But therein, it’s also a generational curse. He’s this way because of his upbringing. He learned all this behavior. And I’m going to be punished for his actions. But that’s just for my cover story, right? Is that a lie, too? Is God real? I know, but that doesn’t matter for God even forsook Jesus. I’m not even that good. I deserve some hell in my life. I just wish it wasn’t at the hand of the man I love.
Sounds like things are rough and your relationship with your partner might not be as balanced as you thought previously. Do you have some friends to talk things through with and get another perspective? Remember just because you loved someone doesn’t mean that they have permission to hurt you and you should not expect that in a loving relationship.
I don’t have anyone to talk about these things with. I hurt him by assaulting him, but he hurts me in ways that causes emotional dysregulation in myself. He’s lying in so many ways and I feel like I’ve been set up yet I can’t tell what reality is, having been previously taken advantage of by a cult. Something is wrong with him, though. I don’t think he can help himself. He’s finally being seen by doctors but this may be a ruse and is how he is framing me to be the devil. I can’t stop drinking knowing something is wrong while sinking and being alone. He helps me so much, but likewise sabotages me in my efforts to create sustainability. I feel like I’m forced to do whatever he wants us to do, which is never healthy as a whole.
That does not sound like a healthy relationship. Is therapy an option? Individually or together?
No, he refuses any attempts to get him help. He’s in the hospital involuntarily right now. I need therapy, and my doctor asked, “do I want therapy?” And I said yes, and here we are, no therapy, because she was just gping line-by-line in her computer to shoe me out the door as fast as possible so she can meet her quota of fifty patients seen a day. Don’t worry though, I’m pretty sure I’m being set up by the CIA, who is my life partner, and I’m going to get infamous and that will transmute to fame once everybody starts digging through my educational art project to realize that while I say it funny, it really is the fucking CIA/men in hats that are pulling my strings so I make all this fucking counterintelligence for them. The education part was my idea.