Lettre ouverte à mon conjoint zèbre, tdah et dépressif

Bonjour à tous,
Voici une lettre que j’ai écrite pour mon conjoint, que je ne lui enverrai probablement jamais, mais je tenais à la partager ici. Bonne lecture pour les plus courageux d’entre vous.
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I know I hurt you. And I am sorry.
I really wished I didn’t - not for me to get you off my back - but for you and because as a result you experienced a lot of hurt and pain.
I wish I had been more understanding and see past my defensiveness and your resulting justified anger. I understand it was all reaction to my own selfishness and avoidance. I wish I had seen your hurt and acknowledged it. I wish I had taken your pain, and you, more seriously.
My guilt was too strong, I was blinded by excuses to lower my own guilt. I was judging myself to harshly and assumed you were the one judging. I love you and my strongest desire is for you to be happy and loved. I could not accept any critics that went against my most profound desire, because it did not seem like « me », it was not what I wanted so it was just « not », and so it must be because of something exterior : so I accused you. I blamed your behavior, the way you felt, how you handled it, I blamed everything and took zero responsibility. I hurt myself a lot. And you felt lonely. And I was pained by you not seeing all my love and started to sacrifice more and more in a way to show you I cared and loved. A destructive way. And I sarted to grow resentful. And helpless. I thought when will that be enough? I kept silently putting the blame on you, while saying it was my fault only to please you and end the destructive fights, and I grew more and more scared of you, and so started to shut down accordingly. I slowly and reluctantly gave up on myself so I could focus more on you. I stopped seeking anything for me, grew no desire nor envy nor excitement for anything, and lived through you and tried to become the perfect partner. Always giving more. I gave you my heart, my brain, my body, my career, my past, my money, everything. It was so much giving that I had no initiatives, no thoughts of my own, nothing.

I became a sad and resentful empty shell, exhausting herself and buried in guilt and resentment, I gave up on myself. I felt sorry for myself for not being able to show my love, to clear the misunderstanding, to find the missing part of my memories and see a clear picture. I felt frustrated for my confusion. I knew nothing no more. I constantly tried to “understand”. I felt pissed off of no-ending arguments that only scratched the surface and were not true. I felt pissed and desperate about the cumulated negative labels that I was attributed and that were not a true accurate version of me. And I wondered who I was.

I started to feel like « loosing precious time » each time I was doing something that was not for me, and the rare time I had time for me I just wasted it in more searches for my partner to look good, or on sleep or series. I had thoughts that if I died it would not be so bad - that if I found myself in a terrible accident, I would probably die because of my lack of willingness to live, when other would have made recovery through willpower and fight for their life. And I did not felt that bad about it. I would have welcomed it as a way to end my misery and a final rest, finally in peace.

I am devastated by what I endured and the suffering and the missed opportunities. By how I can not just go back now. By the fact that I lost my job and did not capitalize on my now useless diplomas. I don’t know how to go back to a career with a 4-year blank. I have no idea how to justify it. It’s hard to face others about it.

I feel like I am wasting precious time and that now it’s all on me, but I also feel that it’s too late now. So I keep drifting. I don’t want my partner to miraculously « save me », and I don’t want to let him save me and say « see » and impose his half view and half truth about me. I want to stop the codependency. I want to understand. I want him to understand me. I want to live for myself also, and be accounted for when I use my precious time for others. I want everyone to see that my choices are mine and I want my partner to see that I chose him a million times.
I want him to see that he may think he never goes first but he always does. And that his misinterpretations of my behaviors are not due to a lack of love on my end, but more to a low self esteem and lack of confidence on my end. I wish he were on my side when those behaviors of mine occur, and not angry at me, so that I could outgrow those behaviors instead of fearing their occurrence.
I want my actions and sacrifices be accounted for love and not manipulation.
I wish I did not have that need to act as if I were okay and fine when I am not - as if the world would fall apart with me if I dare open up.
I am deeply hurt. I want my partner back. I want us to be able to talk freely without me hiding in fear.
To you, my partner whom I love deeply.

Merci pour ceux qui m’ont lu. Désolée je l’ai écrit en anglais...
Bonne journée
Clara.

Bonjour Clara,
Si cet homme est toujours ton conjoint, pourquoi ne pas lui envoyer la lettre?
Ça vous donnerait l'occasion de réaliser ton souhait :

I want us to be able to talk freely without me hiding in fear.

Bonjour Marya,

Merci pour ton réponse, c'était simple mais ca m'a fait du bien.
C'est encore trop confus dans ma tete pour lui écrire, je voudrais etre plus "apaisée" avant, mais tu as raison je devrais m'ouvrir et quand je serai prête le lui envoyer. (et ne pas trop tarder).

Je veux bien comprendre en profondeur pour ne pas être tentée de rejeter la faute sur lui (ou sur moi), et j'essaie de réussir à me faire mon propre avis sur la part de responsabilité de chacun. C'est dur.

Bon weekend

les paroles s'envolent les écrits restent.

Merci Clara pour cette lettre. Tu as mis des mots sur des choses que je ressens moi-même dans mon couple.
Courage à toi

isadora a écrit:les paroles s'envolent les écrits restent.

Heureusement, il y a toujours quelqu’un pour rappeler les truismes que je n’ose poser.

Par ailleurs, heureusement que c’est une lettre ouverte, sinon, on ne saurait la lire.