Anger and where I bite my tongue

Well, I've been giving a lot of thought to the comments I've received, and I was still putting off doing anything at all, because it's hard. It's very hard.

But on Sunday, it was the third day where he said that he would scoop out Shasta's litter box. And he was going to clean the kitchen, too. I was a little hopeful, and I went to work. I talked to him at 3am, when he called me to tell me that he was going to bed. "What did you do all night?", I asked. "Oh, just watched movies." I thought that maybe he was just leaving out the cleaning part. Ok, I didn't really think it, but I was kind of hoping.

I got home and the house smelled like a zoo. Of course Shasta's box hadn't been done, nothing had been done at all. I take that back. He loaded the dishwasher.
But out of the 10+ hours that I was gone for work, that is what he did. That and watch movies.

So when I went in to bed, I made enough of a commotion that it woke him up, he asked me what was wrong. I said, "I thought you were going to scoop Shasta's box...? And clean the kitchen...?" He said, "Oh yeah. I was, wasn't I?" And he went back to bed. I set my alarm for three hours later, so that I could get out of bed and clean. When my alarm went off, he asked me why I was getting up. I said, "because this house needs cleaning, and I am going to do it." He kept saying, "I'll clean, I'll clean, just go back to bed." But I cannot depend on him (clearly) so I just continued to slam things around and clean the kitchen. Then he got up and said, (can you believe this)..."Did you buy me some cigarettes?" I almost laughed, but I didn't. Actually, I had forgotten to pick them up on my way home, got into the driveway and thought, "I'll just run to the bathroom before I run back to town to get them." But when I got inside, I changed my mind. I said to him, "No, I didn't, because I was mad." He said, "Never mind, I'll get them myself." And went and got a bunch of pennies out of his change jar and left.

Then he came back, and I could tell it was "That Guy" and he was angry. But he went in and started vaccuuming the living room. He wasn't speaking to me, which was fine with me. Then, he went to lift the coffee table up on to the couch so that he could vaccuum that area, and Woo-Woo, one of the dogs, was in his way. "MOVE, GO*DAMMIT, YOU STUPID THING, GET OUT OF MY WAY!" He was screaming at the top of his lungs. I have never heard him scream like that and it scared me. So I went into the living room, looked at him and said, "Leave. Right now. Leave." And he screamed at me, "I DON'T HAVE ANY GAS TO LEAVE, HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO LEAVE!!!!!!" So I gave him a $5 bill, and he left. I was hugely relieved at first. All I could think of was "he's gone, thank goodness."

But then I recognized that the $5 was not going to get him to his mom's house 4 hours away. And it would not get him a hotel room. So then I started thinking that he might choose to hurt himself, and I called him. He sounded very different. He had already asked his mom to Western Union him some gas money, so I was wrong there. But we sat in his car and talked, and I could tell that "That Guy" was completely gone. DH said, "Nothing about this is about you. You are doing everything right. You are doing way more than your share, and you have a right to expect me to help out. I don't blame you one bit for being angry. How can we fix this?" And so on.

So I told him that he has to start taking his pills on a schedule again and not fighting it. And he agreed. He will keep his morning pills next to the bed, so that he can just reach over and take them. And he will take the nighttime pills at the right time, and not put them off just so that he can stay up later.

And he apologized again for not helping. And he agreed that every day I would make him a to-do list with one chore on it and he would do that. (I'm realistic enough to know that he might not do that even, but it's more than he's doing now).

And since then, he's been doing more, and whining less. I think he is at least getting an inkling that I am near the end of my rope. It was probably wrong for me to not stick to my guns after I told him to leave, but I didn't think he had an option like having his mom wire him money. I am very much hoping that if he can start taking those pills at the right time(s), that he'll become more stable, too.

I don't want my marriage to end. I love my husband. I wish I was better at handling this. It's one thing for me to say, "Well, he's mentally ill, I can't expect much", but when you want a partnership marriage, that isn't good enough. I'm confused, worried, and sad. And I don't think I'm ready to give up yet, although I think quite a number of you will question my own sanity on this one...