Day After

Planet Tokyo Immediately left the house last night, as I didn't think it would turn out well for hanging around someone who's come back so pissed he's swaying, calling me a "c*nt" and telling me to "shut the f*ck up" while I'm simply sitting here minding my own business typing that:  he's Baaaaaaaaaaaaack. As the streets are no longer safe because of successive governments' insane and dangerous immigration policies, I wasn't game to park at a nearby park or a street, or anywhere else public, to sleep in the car.  I didn't fancy an assault by ex-warlords and child-soldiers from alien continents. Drove to the police station to take refuge in their carpark. It took me two shots to find my local police (and I almost accidentally ended up on the freeway), because it has been ages since I've driven anywhere ... and I couldn't remember which turn to take. Sat there looking at the moon and feeling the car sway in the wind.  Every now and then, looked at the time on the mobile phone. Looked at the impressive police security fence around the parked cars.  Thought it might be new, but I wasn't sure. Guess they're not up for exposure to warlords or terrorists either. The men that left the police station at that hour had me kind of thinking maybe the police carpark wasn't the safest refuge place: they're criminals, I found myself thinking. Skinny criminals. Sh*t. They're druggies and they're leaving on foot. LOL At some point I spoke to an officer who had quizzically looked over at me in the parked car.  Felt maybe I should let the officer know what I'm doing, or they'll think I'm a terrorist or something. Briefly wondered what kind of arrest I could expect. Vaguely explained that I'm sitting it out in the carpark until I feel it's safer to head home. Officer said that the staff indoors could arrange accommodation for me, but I declined. Said I might have to use the loo later and left it at that. LOL All that effort would have been for nothing: I'd be more stressed out in unfamiliar surroundings than in my car.  I'm weird like that. Gave it maybe an hour and 45 minutes hoping that would be enough time for him to pass out asleep. Some trepidation heading inside when I got back, because I didn't know what I'd be walking into.  Was he awake?  Did he notice I'm not home?  Was he angry?  Was he drinking more? Snoring on the couch. Relief. Creeping around. I didn't want to wake him. Didn't flush the toilet. Didn't want to make noise. Set up my 'runner package' by the bed - dressing gown with keys, cigarettes and phone in the pockets - in case something happened and I had to get out fast.  Not sure why I chose the dressing gown.  I have coats.  But dressing gown it was. Forgot to turn off the phone alarm I'd set, so when it went off I freaked that it would wake him and fumbled furiously to shut down the 'leave-the-car-park' alarm I'd set up in case I fell asleep in the car at the police station. Even though I'm an atheist, I found myself mentally repeating: "Please, god, don't let him wake up." LOL Not really sure why. Potential drama. Argument that I expected wouldn't end well. The unpredictability of what would potentially unfold and the stress factor. Wasn't up for handling what would happen. Or the enormous amount of mental strain and self-restraint it takes for me not to argue and not to respond (or to have to find the right responses if my not responding angers him); having to hold in rising anxiety, frustration and anger; having to tread on eggshells and lie low, or potentially wind up maybe seriously injured if his aggression is fired up while he's drunk. Luckily, he didn't hear my phone alarm and didn't get up. If he did, he might have just come to bed. But I would have been anxious and agitated if that happened; I probably would have argued with him because I'd have been so disgusted and angry, and I don't know that I'd have the self-restraint not to wind up in an argument. So his not waking up was such a relief. Coming home to sleep was such a relief. It's weird, but I like familiar surroundings. Even if my territorial zone mostly isn't comfortable, it's still my 'comfort zone'. Was really upset when I confronted him today, because he wasn't even looking at me and he had a sort of hostile thing happening. Like he's the injured party and I'm making unreasonable demands of him. Insisted that he needs to stop drinking around me. Told me to get f*cked or to f*ck off. Attitude was a f*ck-off attitude that didn't bode well. I kept hammering him, telling him if it doesn't stop I'll have to get a court order and we'll both be homeless. I stressed that I cannot live with the drinking. I complained about all the years I've been telling him. Largely unresponsive and still with the f*ck-off attitude. I yelled at him that he's a psychopath; and what kind of assh*le just does what they want, ignoring the other person (or something like that). I was mostly angry at his anger that I took refuge at the police carpark, as his only concern was about the consequence to him, like he's a big-time criminal or something (he's not even a criminal). I think that's when I accused him of being a psychopath. I was so jacked off that he didn't give a stuff that I was hiding from local warlords and other creepies at the police carpark, because he was off his face drunk and I was too scared to hang around at home with him in case he launched a physical attack. I then got really angry and began complaining that he's not even my friend, that I don't know him, that he has absolutely no respect for me and complaining about my life having been cannibalised by him, and how he's taken over my whole life. He laughed at me and told me I'm such a drama queen. At some point he had a go at me for kicking over an occasional table and kick-destroying a plastic recycling bin (yesterday's meltdown while he was haranguing me as he was semi-drunk). I explained that I've had enough and cannot take any more of his drinking around me.  I told him I cannot cope.  I stressed that I cannot mentally cope with more of this, after almost 10 years of it.  I kept asking him to address the issue, while he kept up a hostile kind of shield. None of this took place in a receptive way. It was him not looking at me, Him angry. Him with the f*ck-off attitude. Him not really discussing anything with me. Just sort of firing things off at me, while I kept insisting that he cannot drink around me because I cannot cope. Tells me all he does is go to work. I acknowledged that. But I stressed that I can't handle the drinking.  Where he dismissed me, I kept trying to hammer that home to him:  I cannot handle the drinking. But he kept not looking at me, being angry, firing off whatever and muttering an insult or something dismissive under his breath now and then. The only thing that changed his attitude and response pattern was my announcement that I am ringing his brother to ask his brother to break up with him on my behalf, or I will have to get a court order. He got angry and barked (melodramatic and anguished, as if I was asking for his first-born), "All right, I'll stop drinking. But you'll only see me for two days a week." I told him that's sh*t and that won't work. He said my bills would be paid. Then he left the house. Before he left, I told him I'd need that in writing. I sat there thinking this is crap. He doesn't really intend to stop drinking. At some point he came back and I asked him what his problem is, because I'm not asking him to do anything harmful. I'm telling him I can take no more, and I'm asking him to do something that is also good for him. Said he doesn't like me 'bossing' him around, telling him what to do. Told him that was ridiculous; I'm telling him what I can and cannot cope with, and that what I ask of him is logical and good for him as well as me (something along that line). Eventually, he became his more normal self. Dropped the hostile shield thing and I felt more relaxed. Not sure I can trust him. We've had this argument a million times.