Two sides to a coin

So a person from my husband’s family took exception to me saying she was ghosting me when she didn’t respond to my inquiries. I was supposed to understand by her not replying, was just her saying, er, nothing? That she meant she didn’t know if she could help. but she didn’t say that, she just didn’t respond at all. She took great exception to being told she was ghosting me.

She huff and puffed, told me off, and blocked me. How dare I ‘faux educated’ her on ghosting, because absolutely, I knew she knew all about that.

Now, she was the only person who offered to help, so there is that loss.

She accused me of being – secretive? – not communicating with husband’s family. Which isn’t true. I tried connecting with a lot of them. Some just didn’t want to talk to me, some didn’t have time to talk with me (or meet up for coffee or tea), and after getting rebuffed so many times, I stopped trying. And I think my husband would tell them stuff (if they did call) that was asleep, or sick, or busy, or whatever to block them from talking to me.

It took me about 6 hours to stop wanting to reply to her missive. Being blocked helped. She blocked my husband’s phone, not mine or my landline, so if I wanted to be a dick, I could still reply to her. But I won’t. She wasn’t the only person hurt by this exchange. I felt bitch slapped a couple of times and absolutely felt ghosted. Because she did ghost me.

I’m already fucked, so fucked with her or without her makes no difference.

oh, and the really funny thing, I had never even heard of passive aggressive until I married him and his mother. Now it seems it comes out if I intend it to, or not.

Dying? (again)

Emotionally, I’m doing better than I should be. How many times have I been told he’s dying, only to recover? And I mean that in this last episode, say, the last 3-4 months. You can’t keep flip flopping – relief, fear, relief, fear. That’s just impossible to maintain.

This time might be a little different. He is coming home, but he’s coming with palliative care nurses. At least, that’s the word right now. As always with him, it could change in 12 hours.

At first, he wanted me to visit him in the hospital, but I was like, if you’re coming home to die, why do I need to go to the hospital? So there might be a lie in there, somewhere, that I don’t know yet.

I am getting a little stressed out. It’s not about his dying, dying doesn’t scare me, it’s just part of life. But all the BS I’m going to go through afterward. I am overwhelmed with what I’m going to have to do.

Again. When will I learn?

When I lay down, the whole situation fans out in chronological order. It makes sense. It’s clear and concise. But when I get up and open this program, my brain skitters like a puppy on linoleum.

honest to god, I’m an idiot.

TL;DR. BIL has conned me again that husband is dying, when he’s not.

This post is mainly about my brother in law, and lightly touches on my partner, who is not dying and probably coming home next week some time.

He was the one telling me all of my partner’s organs were shutting down (see previous post). it was a couple of days later I called the nurses’ station. I hadn’t before because they’d taken me off next of kin previously. but they didn’t this time. The nurse said he was non verbal, but aware of his surroundings. for some stupid reason, I believed BIL.

anyway, when I asked the kids (bil’s kids) how my husband was doing, they repeated BIL stance.

but really, it was a lie. a deliberate, nasty toxic lie. Its only purpose to hurt me, because I didn’t leave the house, I didn’t visit him on his ‘death bed’. When Bil told me these lies, I didn’t go into snot nose, ugly crying, sack cloth and grief screams.

It’s just evil. mean, because I can’t fight back. he backstabs and sneers, and whispers like a snake into husband’s ear ‘she’s smoking!’ and husband treats this like it’s a new thing. husband believes nothing I say about bil, it is pointless even trying. and to top it off, I don’t backstab. I do not say nasty things about people. i would say the truth but that’s pointless as it’s not believed.

So husband called me last night and said he’s probably coming home after the weekend. totally screwed up bil line about dying any time now.

i have a hard time understanding how bil thinks. just the evil coming off him. and my husband looks up to him like he’s a saint.

well, one or two more days/weeks and they’re gone. 6 months later his effect will wear off enough for me to talk to husband without him just parroting whatever that evil, toxic little man did to his brain.

edit; I forgot to mention me, how I’m reacting. The last 3 weeks, my lungs are ‘normal’. I’ve been breathing like a normal person. no stress, no whease, no cough. it was flipping amazing. Even when talking to my ‘dying’ partner didn’t change my breathing. then, through comments partner made, I realized bil was lying to me, backstabbing me, just generally having a good time poisoning my partner against me. once I realized that, my lungs started seizing up. I am constantly doing chest relaxation breathing techniques. the knowledge of what that ass wipe is doing and harmed my health. I have also come to the realization I really, really dislike that man.

once again into the breach

For the 3rd? 2nd? time in the last 12 months, my partner is on his death bed. as the doctor who has taken his case (in replacement of doctor strikes) has put him on NIL and no liquids. for 3 weeks. partner went in due to confusion and swelling in extremities. the ‘doctor’ wanted a culture of his hickman line, so nil for 3ish days. it’s going on 4 weeks. my partner can no longer talk or communicate in any way. his brain is not functioning, he can’t get out of bed. he’s lost bowel and bladder control. and he’s lost so much weight, he’s skeletal.

he is shutting down. again. i consider it a homicide. even a healthy person can die without food or water for 4 weeks. they now have him on glucose, because he just needs a bit of sugar to kick start his failing organs.

i may not have all the information, as his brother isn’t big on letting me know what is going on.

if you remember, i don’t leave the house. I don’t think I’ll die if i do, i know i will if i do. I am charging my mobility scooter. i have clothes picked out, and I’m going to go see him tomorrow. i don’t know if he’s going to be there when i get there.

knowing my BIL, he will clean out his bank accounts. i am not on the lease, so need to talk to them along with banks. doesn’t much matter because BIL is going to take care of everything, i will be informed not consulted. if that.

I’m in a pickle. on one side, my partner of 20+ years is dying. on the other side, my abusive partner of 20+ years is dying. how am i supposed to feel? at the moment, relief. tomorrow? terror.

Meltdown

I was in the hospital for about 10 days, had a small surgery, a massive infection, and home with an open wound. Of course, I have no help coping.

Once I got home, partner came down sick. He went by ambulance yesterday to A&E. He has not turned on his phone, so I can’t reach him.

Last time my partner was sick in hospital, his brother persuaded him to remove me from hospital contacts. If I call the hospital about him, they give no information. Not even if he is in hospital.

I know he went to the hospital. Other than that, I am in a news blackout. Even if I left the house and go there physically, 1) I can’t prove I’m his wife and 2) I am not on his approved list, so they can’t tell me anything, anyway.

A niece did message asking what was happening, none of his family could reach him. I explained my limitations. I am taking bets someone shows up to take care of things. I can only hope it’s 1 or 2 people, and not more – and very most specifically NOT BIL#1.

His taking me off his approved contact list was an unnecessary cruelty.

Invisable, again

Partner had been getting better in my treatment, as his brother’s influence started to fade. But today, sigh, it was a one, two, three punch in the space of an hour that has me tearing up.

Some repairmen comes in the house. Lots of banging. I had no idea someone was coming in – I wasn’t dressed to talk to him. So once he leaves, I go into the living room where partner is (and two other family members who stopped by to help with odds and ends). I ask what the guy is repairing, to find out it was the shower. The shower has been broken at least 5 years. It’s been ‘repaired’ 4 times and it never worked. We have a disability shower, dip in the floor, water gets sucked up and deposited in the system. I don’t take showers because anything more than 3 minutes of running water, floods the bathroom. I use the sink. I have asked many times for the shower to be repaired to be ignored. They didn’t bother to inform me it was getting repaired today. You don’t inform or ask for input of someone who is a ghost. Invisible.

A few minutes later, another bang at the door. I’m dressed now, and see the guy heading into the kitchen. I ask my partner, what else is getting fixed? He says, oh, that’s the grocery. I blink a couple of times and say: why didn’t you ask me if I wanted anything? He’s innocently looking at me: oh, I didn’t? I meant to. A couple of times. He thinks a second, there was nothing on the refrigerator list!

I don’t go in there as much as I can. We have a young couple living in the living room. I try to give them as much privacy as I can. There’s nothing new on the list because I don’t go in there. He honestly just should have asked. Just a courtesy. Invisible, disposable.

Then, just a couple of literal minutes after the groceries are delivered, the girl that’s helping us comes in the door. With a bag of groceries. She, too, didn’t ask me if I wanted anything. (she may not have been asked if she wanted anything, either, requiring a trip to the store.) But the young in the family learn quickly how I am treated. They see how my partner treats me and echoes it.

Her coming in with that bag brought me to tears.

I am ducking tired of being invisible.

It’s the little things

I asked my partner to put me on the lease (again) after being legally married for over 20 years, I figured, why not? He angrily refused. (reason in a different post.)

I got to thinking, why not ask him for my money, that he’s holding in another account. He says I only need to ask for it and he’ll give it to me. The gate keeper keeps the lock well oiled. I’ve asked before for the full amount and he’s refused, one excuse over another. I told him, the only reason I ask is because I know you won’t give it to me. But he said okay.

Now it did take 4 reminders over 2 days before he actually gave me the full amount (minus the bits where I asked for like 1 or 2 hundred, but not positive the parts where the common account pays for the household food.) The last time I’d asked for the full amount, he asked me if I planned on leaving him. I said no.

I think he also thought I was planning on leaving him and he figured it was a price worth paying to get rid of me (the fulfillment of his word, that is.)

The next day I start doing my laundry, which I’d not done in months. Couldn’t breathe well enough to do it and it wasn’t a worry until I had nothing clean left. It must have really stood out to him, that I was doing laundry.

I’d also bought a couple of small kitchen utensils. I realized he’d never use them even though I got them for him. So I took them and put them back into their box, and in my bedroom.

Thinking it over, I am fairly certain he thinks I’m leaving him. (that last argument, honestly, I should.) But now he’s got confirmation bias. Anything I do he will see as preparation on leaving him.

Which kind of tickles me.

I don’t intend to leave him (for now). The place we live at, I really like. I don’t want to move. I want him to move, in one way or another. I may have to move at some point, but for now, I’m going to fuck with his head.

I’ll randomly leave the house (totally worth dying for, this idea*) for an hour or two and be very vague on where I went. I’ll make mysterious phone calls. I’ll jump to answer the phone (I never answer the phone unless I know who it is). Little things that people just do, normally. But due to his confirmation bias he’ll see as confirmation I’m leaving.

and it’ll go on and on …

The other day I made a joke. Okay, it wasn’t funny but the look on his face still makes me smirk a little. I said; I’ll just get a life insurance policy on you. The horror on his face! I said, hey, I’m joking! (and I was. But later, I did check to see how that worked and what the price is, because I’m also practical. If I ever told him, it doesn’t work as you’d expect in this country. Life insurance here is basically a savings account. You get back what you paid in. shame, really. (common, it’s a joke! Can’t you take a joke?)

So now I got to think of little things that will confirm his bias, get his hopes up. Any ideas? Damn right it’s passive aggressive but it’s my only tool. And it’ll be something to get out of bed for, because right now, I have no reason to get out of bed.

* I equate leaving the house with dying. I have to balance it out. Is X worth dying for? When he was (I thought) dying, the answer was yes. Going out for milk? no. So is going out just to mess with his head, worth dying for?

Yes.

Nice is off the table.

Today, I asked my partner to put me on the lease. He refused, angrily. He said, I’ve not brought it up, but I will now. While I was in hospital this home was a hell hole. His brother told him all about it.

I told him, the reason I’ve not brought it up is because he loves his brother and anything I said wouldn’t be believed. This hell hole was much deeper than he knew. He started to tell me what his brother had told him, but I stopped him. I don’t care what the jack ass said. I know how that family works. They tell the truth but with a tiny twist. Giving it a full on different meaning.

fuck that shit. It truly doesn’t matter.

He was totally happy with me being homeless if – when – he died. Giving me the ol’ reem post posthumously.

Looking at options now.

The idiot doesn’t realize I know where the ‘bodies’ are buried at. And I got receipts. And I got no reason to be nice.

Legalities, in a way.

BIL left to go back home. He’s been here since August. Except for the last day (when there was a witness) he looked through me. I did not exist.

He arranged our house for his own comfort, but called it helping his brother. In the living room, alone, he has 3 tripping hazards, boxes full of broken equipment for ‘tables’, furniture all the way around the room, blocking the exit from back door. Partners PC is now in the living room, with a broken potty chair as a chair. All the curtains are always open so any thief can take inventory without coming near the place.

I asked my partner if I could disable-proof the living room. He said no (strongly, emphatically). I can only think he believes his brother wouldn’t put him in any danger, so it is perfect. It is not perfect, not even close. Then I figure, well, sure. Maybe I will trip or fall over this stuff (already have, once). Maybe that’s the point.

So, here is this. I refuse to accept any responsibility if my partner is physically or emotionally injured due to any reason in the bathroom, living room, bedroom … well really, in any room in this place due to hazards that have been identified or not, because he has refused any changes. (I note, the one item of furniture he hated has been identified and removed from the house for his ‘safety’ in getting to the toilet. I loved this item. It’s why it had to go)

In addition, I hold my partner 100% liable to any injury, physical or emotional, that I incur due to the difficulty in getting around without harm. I am going to include anxiety or breathing difficulties in this. Mainly because I go near that living room, look at it, and instantly spike an asthma attack from stress.

He’s done nothing but parrot his brother since he got home from hospital.

He has also never, ever, been held accountable for action, word or deed. It’s about time, don’t you think?

There’s a witness.

Partner comes in, says so-and-so is coming over and bringing lunch. Do you want any? I can’t bring it to you, though. (he’s still using a walker or cane). I say: just put some aside and I’ll come get it when he’s gone.

This is the first time since August I’ve been offered food.

Guy arrives, hubby comes and tells me what was brought. I chose beef on rice.

A couple of minutes later, there’s another knock on the door. It is the BIL bringing me a bowl of rice and beef. “where do you want it?”

I was floored. He’s not offered me anything – food, water, acknowledgment – since august. He has eaten in front of me, offering nothing – not even left overs. I don’t exist to him. Yet, here he is, giving me food. Then I realized why.

There was a witness.