Therapy and Not Much to Say

Not much to say, really.  The past couple days have been going pretty much the same.

Monday I went and talked to my therapist (well, he's not really like a regular therapist to me... he's the therapist I like at the VA and used to see, so when I wanted to talk to someone I requested  him).  That was really good.  He's a nice guy and good at his job, he listened and gave me some good stuff to think about.  He also got me a same-day meds appointment where I was squeezed in to a new psychdoc a few hours later.

It meant another 80 minute round-trip to Temple that day, but it was worth it.  She gave me Ambien and the first quick-acting anxiety medication that any doctor has given me ever.  Of over 10 years of panic attacks.  I get the constant impression I'm considered drug-seeking whenever I've asked for that sort of thing (and in general, sigh) but this lady took me seriously and prescribed.

Haven't needed to use any yet, while I've had anger and upset the past couple days I've not had huge anxiety rushes where I need drugging lol.

We had a long talk Monday, Chael and I.  More horribleness.  Not an ugly conversation or anything, just hurtful...  More angles to what I already knew, new aspects of the lying and stuff.

Then we went to his therapist on Tuesday... and I have no idea what is going on in his head.  The denial, the lying, the bizarre twist on memories discussed... it's unreal.

And, of course, he's been lying to me in the ways I've caught him this couple or so weeks plus the subjective things I couldn't directly catch him in.

All.Day.Long. he lies.  Constantly.  To everybody.  It's really sick.  As in, not well... not...right in the head.

Again, I caught him out several times in front of the therapist.

I get the direct impression the therapist has no idea what to do with him, either.  Good guy, but this is not a "So, what is stressing you out and triggering your depression with work?  How is that doing?" sort of thing that Chael was sent to him for.

And it may very well be the case that these past 15 years Chael hasn't loved me.  He's currently trying to figure out whether he has or does at all or not.  No solid word yet.

His "homework" for therapy is to figure out what he actually feels about anyone ever and in what ways, then in theory the doc will work with him from there on those details and why he lies and fakes with everyone he comes into contact with.

I told him that Dr. Roger's (my therapist from the other day) thinks it would be best if he moved out and that while I don't have to do it immediately, that's the case in his opinion.  I'm inclined to agree.  I don't know what's wrong with Chael or if it can ever be fixed, I'm divorcing him, and it just hurts as I keep watching him lie to me.

Not in that his new lies upset me... like I said, I'm at a point of emotion and acceptance where it just doesn't matter.  But finding out and re-affirming old ones... twists my insides.

There will never be flowers again.  No holding hands.  No cuddles before bed.

He wants to stay with me, he thinks I'm wonderful, he wants to continue to serve me... but he doesn't really care about losing me.

Dr. Roger's suggested that when I feel like this or when I start getting super-angry to try and think about what good has come from the marriage, the experience of it.

I can't really think of anything as far as the relationship itself goes.  I had some very nice times with Chael... things we've done together, sweetnesses we shared and that I loved... but they weren't real.  He lied all through them.  For the most part they were manipulations he says.  They were just part of the way he shows a fake personality to everyone.

So what am I supposed to take away from that?  Other relationships that have ended, whether rough or not, have had things I learned from them... things I brought out of them as good experiences, happy memories... things I learned I wanted or didn't want in the future.

But what do you get when all your happy memories were faked by the other person?  When you never even knew who they really were, felt, or thought all those years?

What do you take away when all you can say that you learned is what you already knew:  that no one ever really knows anyone.  That like I've pointed out to others for decades now, starting before this marriage, you can know someone for years or, as a parent, their entire life and still find out one day that you don't know them at all or that they have been doing horrible things you would never suspect of them like pedophilia or skinning kittens or raping and eating  joggers they abduct or whatever.  Because that does happen to people.

And then it happened to me.  Irony.

So far the only good thing I've been able to salvage in my mind about this relationship isn't actually about the relationship... it's that due to being married to him I got to go to Germany to live and traveled all over Europe on my own.

That, and Pixel and Jonesy.  I wouldn't have had those two particular wonderful kitties in my life if we'd not been married and we'd gotten them for me.

So Europe travel and two cats.  15+ years together and that's the total so far.

The endless lying.  I watch it with him when speaking to others, when speaking to me.  Not just his words... it's... his whole self.  Facial expressions, body language, tone of voice... he sounds normal.  There isn't the mismatch that most people tend to have if they lie more than the occasional social-lubricant type.  It's sad, for both me AND him... I can't imagine living like that, not being yourself ever.

Everybody lies to some extent...  from major to little tiny politenesses, depending on the person and what is going on with them.  I don't know how to express that this is not that.  There is nothing he says about himself or that he does with others that can be trusted, because he will and does lie about any and all of it.

Again, it's not a malicious thing.  His intent is not to hurt others or to be mean to people.  He just wants them to think well of him and he doesn't care what he has to do or tell them to make them do so.  Even when he knows it can or does hurt them.

He sat down next to my bed and with tears in his eyes asked me not to go.  Told me he was not okay and that he wanted me to stay.

Then later admitted he's not particularly upset about any of this.

He wasn't doing it to try and be a bastard to me, he just wants me to stick around so he'll fake emotions to get me to.

How sick is that?

Thankfully, for my heart and mind, I didn't believe a word of it when he said it.

The only thing I trust out of him nowadays is that he does what he's told the majority of the time, like before.  Tell him to clean the kitchen:  he does.  Tell him I want him to get X from the grocery on his way home: he does.

It may be he's honestly not capable of more emotion than what I'm finding, again towards me or anyone.  He expresses thinking I'm the best person he's ever known and caring for me the most out of anyone... but he's not sure he loves me or has during any point in our marriage.  And has continually lied his ass off to me like he does with everyone else.

Anyway, nothing is changing as far as my plans.  Divorce, move to NYC.  With or without him.

Things are definitely more likely without him.  I'm not going to keep him around for his sake.  There has to be enough in it for me and as I've said before I'm promising nothing past the next 5 minutes.  So far as the days go by I'm seeing less and less in it for me.

It may sound to others like I'm holding on to something or that I'm still attached in a love sort of way and waffling... I can assure you that's not the case.  I don't love him anymore, not after all I've learned.  I'm not rethinking the divorce or thinking that we'll ever have what I thought we had.  It's utilitarian now... he's useful.  Plus, I do hope that he someday fixes this about himself whether or not I still know him if/when he does.  I don't hate him, I wish him well, I hope someday he can be okay.  But I'm no longer connected and in love and looking forward with him.

I have plans for my life, and he may be lucky enough to tag along.