Planet Tokyo 
Seismic meltdown. Me. Same issue.
Don't know what happened. I just couldn't contain the anger and frustration, I guess.
While I was preparing something to eat, I was being harangued about my faults or whatever. I can't even remember what it was exactly that was the issue with me.
But it's the same old scene being played out. I expect it began with my complaint about the drinking or something similar - or I just asked to be left in peace.
Yes, I asked that he just watch some TV. Kept having something of a go at me in that sort of semi-drunk way: not completely off his face, but drunk enough to be frustrating and annoying.
As usual, unresponsive to whatever need I express.
Good example is if I were to plainly state that I am distressed and cannot take more of whatever, it's like a signal to amp up whatever it is that I've specifically asked that he desist.
In this case, I think I'd just had all I could take of him sort of arguing with me (where there was no argument from me), instead of heeding my need to be left in peace.
On and on and on it went, with him justifying himself, insisting on how martyred he is and how he was trying to 'help' and whatever else, talking over the top of me and persisting in doing my head in, where I've signalled: enough.
I haven't had that kind of angry outburst in years. I am no longer able to feel that degree of anger. Even now, I feel numb. I can't cry although I kind of wish I could.
'Domestic' in the making really began in the early hours of the afternoon. I figured he was outside drinking, but I was immersed in reading and I wasn't up for arguing about drinking. Also, when I did go out, he seemed reasonably sober. I guess I hoped he'd keep sober. But after several hours of drinking he's not exactly sober. While he's not rolling drunk, he's drunk enough to piss me off and drunk enough not to be receptive to what I'm saying and drunk enough to argue back at me over the top of what I've conveyed to him.
It finally did my head in and I had a complete meltdown.
It's impossible to have a proper conversation with someone who is intoxicated and unreceptive: he just argues back at me and whether I want to argue or not, it turns to argument.
It turns to his drinking, which he then insists 'isn't' a problem. But it's a f*cking problem if I'm telling him it's a problem from my perspective and if this has been at the root of every single f*cking argument he and I have had in what is now nearing 10 years.
It does my head in that he is ranting at me about how he's 'helping' me, when he's spent the afternoon destroying my plants. I had a huge rubber plant that he destroyed and put in the recycling bin and he's destroyed whatever water plants I had.
Yes, I've had a major depressive thing where I've not bothered with gardening, plants or anything else, to a ridiculous point where all that interests me is politics news, virtually all day ever day, like an addictive escapist thing.
For whatever reason, I find it rewarding and interesting, even though it's entirely pointless. Although I'm good for nothing, it feeds my mind at least. Hopefully, I'm learning something. However useless my learning.
As usual, whenever there is anything that's remotely critical on my part in relation to his drinking, his defensive method is to then have a go at me: about everything under the sun; and where I will insist that the drinking needs to stop, that I cannot deal with it and whatever else I convey at this point, he'll insist drinking is not the problem, that I am the problem, and he goes into all the things that are wrong with me.
It's the same f*cking argument being repeated almost 10 years down the track.
It then turns to an attack on the things that interest me and then an attack on my mental health: "You're mad," he'll insist.
Well, after the meltdown I had, that turned to "You're a nasty old bitch." WTF? It's not like he's twelve.
During some point he became physically intimidating and was saying how he's not going to "explode" or some shit, where he was heading towards me in the kitchen and I was bracing myself to either be whacked or grabbed by him, but he backed off.
At some point I got my phone and rang a third party to ask that they intervene and ask him not to drink, because I don't know from one day to the next what I'm doing here.
We'll be good for a day or two or whatever and I'll have the anxiety and the tensions or a full-blown argument (although not necessarily always a big one). Whatever it is, it's a constant disruption and I find myself constantly having to rethink WTF I'm doing. Where I settle on trying to co-exist, all that is overturned by the feeling that I simply cannot co-exist with someone who intends to continue to drink.
As in, he's semi-pissed and ranting about plans he has etc. All well and good having plans, but if I'm unable to cope with any more drinking after almost 10 years of this issue being a point of contention and of argument between us, then what good are any plans he has?
Even more concerning and pressure-inducing for me is having to make up my mind whether to move from the place that has been my home for much longer than he's been here: as in, having to suddenly just vacate my home to be finally done with this. It's not what I want to do, but if I can't negotiate to live sensibly in some way, what other option is open to me? I'm under pressure now, because I have to make legal decisions. Which probably explains the seismic meltdown that today's boozy session led to for me.
Through our argument - or during some point - he insists "I'm going to get tipsy every day" and "I'm allowed to drink ..." or some such crap, like I'm dealing with a f*cking child and like he hasn't heard a f*cking word of what I've said.
I've said enough. I've said no more. I've said no more drinking at home. I've said I can take no more of this. I've explained to him my anxiety.
We've had the same f*cking dramas since he's resumed drinking as we've had in the years before he had to have a break from drinking. So why does he not connect the dots and just stop with the f*cking drinking, when he's able to? It's not like he needs professional help. He's gone cold turkey before and he's managed, so why not just do it and be done with it, so we can at least co-exist without drama ... and if I'm really that sh*t, he needs to figure if he wants to remain here or if he wants to move.
I don't understand what it is about this that he can't understand. It's pretty basic. It's either drink and therefore leave or stop drinking, remain and try to co-exist.
Does he seriously think that we have this drama every few days because I'm a 'nasty c*nt'? Why does he not consider the possibility that I've had enough and cannot cope with any more of this?
What to him is probably just an argument while he's sort of buffered by intoxication is something different to me. I see the condition that he is in and I am not only disgusted, I'm freaked out about locking myself into more of the same. It is impossible to imagine just living like this for another ten years. I can't do it and I don't understand why he can't understand that I cannot do it. Does he really imagine I want to be homeless and aimlessly moving to some other place after all the time I've been here, and that this is just on whim on my part or because I'm a "nasty old bitch", or is there a possibility that I am completely depleted and sh*t scared of living out any more of this, because I'm at a point where I'm finished?
The numbness I feel is frightening. It has been a long time since I have felt this numb. Nothing enlivens me. Everything is dead to me. All that's left of a drive in me is my ability to read and take an interest in things far removed from me.
When he has a go at the things that interest me and starts behaving like a freak, pointing to my PC telling me "all of this will be gone" (presumably meaning he's disconnecting the internet when he leaves), I just feel disgusted because I'm looking at someone semi off his face, 'threatening' me with cutting off the internet, as if that is some kind of inducement for living with someone who is going to get sh*t-faced and argue with me every few days or whatever, where he's ignoring my voice and my simple request that he just stop the f*cking drinking because I can take no more of it.
While it's not an ideal solution, I'd even consider an arrangement where he spends every Friday night or something somewhere else getting drunk, but never drinks again here around me. But I can't even negotiate that. Nothing I say to him enters his skull. But, in hindsight, I don't think that's an ideal arrangement because it is simply feeding the habit and the habit is the problem. How can you commit to something when the other person cannot even commit to not drinking alcohol, where alcohol has been a point of contention and problem for years? It's impossible.
A lot of today's anger comes from having wasted maybe another 18 months of my life on this and on now facing being homeless, where we could have formally parted company 18 months ago and I may have been on back on my feet and somewhat functional by now - or at least stuck with nothing but my own dysfunction.
It wouldn't be easy for me, but I don't know what alternative there is when there is no stability in this situation. I tell him I'm going to have a breakdown and he just laughs at me and keeps repeating what I've told him I can no longer handle. I seriously cannot handle living with someone who is going to continue to drink when I've stated a clear limit in that regard and have been for the last 10 f*cking years. That is so degrading. No life is worth that kind of degradation.
Then I think about all the arguments we've had and I wonder why he's even here with me. Going by all the attacks on me, I'm the sh*ttiest person there is. So what else is there? I can't cope with living with someone who has shoved me in some 'sh*t-box', where we have a permanently contentious 'relationship' and I'm just sh*t in his eyes - which is obvious from how he perceives and 'relates' to me. Only there's not much relating going on here. We're really separate units. I've ground down to a complete, numb halt. He's happy when he's drinking. But I'm distressed. It just doesn't work.
I hate the arguments we have. They're so diminishing. The things he says to me diminish him in my eyes. What I hate most is that it's like dealing with a child. I don't have children. I have him. LOL
What I also find revolting is the way he sells me out. We'll be having an argument and he'll tell me how so-and-so sides with him and how he's told everyone I'm 'mad' and whatever else, like he's some f*cking martyr suffering here with me and he and his posse know where it's at. F*ck that. I'm not involved with whoever he's slagging me off to and I don't give a shit what they think about any of this. But the problem here is that I'm involved with someone who cannot have anything but an adversarial and arms-length weird and destructive 'relationship' with me, where I cannot even trust him in any way whatsoever, because he's a never-ending packet of f*cking psychological assault and betrayal of some kind or other.
I'm angry that he couldn't even have a proper break-up with me. Why the f*ck couldn't he just man up and have a proper discussion and proper break-up with me? We don't talk about anything. Lately, when he's sober, I've tried to talk to him to convey to him that I just cannot cope any longer, but he shuts me down. I'm shut down. I can't discuss anything. And the same thing gets replayed over and over again.
It's really weird living with someone who is sort of not there. It took me years to figure out that he's kind of not there, in the sense that he's not himself etc and that everything is mediated through an alcohol haze, when intoxicated. So I'm sort of dealing with two persons: the nice person and the intoxicated person. Dealing with the intoxicated person feels like having a wrestling match with the insane ... while he's insisting I'm the problem and I'm 'mad'.
It's probably just as strange to live with someone who either does not notice or does not care that I'm no longer there. As in, I may as well be inanimate: I'm always tuned into something online. How can he not notice or care that I'm not there?
We're both in our own worlds. His world is just fine, if I don't say anything about the drinking. But my world is not. I find it strange to be with someone for so long but to feel sometimes like this person is a complete stranger to me. It's shocking when it happens. It's shocking that after all this time I can feel so completely disconnected, but if you sort of live in separate worlds, where there is nothing shared or discussed, it's very hard to feel connected.
All the times he's had a go at me about what is essentially me, leaves me feeling I cannot even trust this person. To his mind, I'm the 'enemy' or something. It's always some adversarial thing and I'm the 'bad guy' and everything that I am and that interests me or that I express (or whatever else) is sh*t, according to him. So how the f*ck can we co-exist, if in this dynamic I am with someone who thinks I'm sh*t and someone I can't trust because he falls to bits any time he's criticised in any way and has some massive attack on me - as in, an attack on the fundamentals of me and what I am? LOL
Mostly I feel anxiety. I feel fear. I feel frustration. I feel anger. I feel guilt. Sometimes I feel really dreadful about myself. But mostly everything is kind of numbed down. Something inside of me is shut off. The anxiety feelings are the strongest when I try to sleep or when I know he's begun drinking. It takes a lot to stir anger in me because of the numbness I feel. Maybe that's depression. The meltdown I had today is an exception. I don't know where that anger came from.
I'm not sure that airing my dirty laundry has helped me. I feel a combination of distressed, numb and like crying, but I can't cry. Sometimes I think about ending it all when I feel especially overwhelmed, but that's more an impulse thing rather than a plan.
Doubt I'll be good for blogging about anything I've looked at.
Just trying to unwind as I wait for the rice and chicken dish I'm preparing finish cooking. I don't even know how I managed to cook something through that. As in, how I managed to resume cooking after the outburst I had. I can feel a headache coming on. Extremely tense.
My nose is starting to run. Maybe that's good.
As I'm editing, I'm wishing I'd just die.
Began experiencing anxiety about the duration of time I thought Mr Semi-Off-His-Face was outside drinking after our argument.
Went out to look for him but couldn't find him.
Checked refrigerator. He's taken a six-pack of beer.
Tried calling. Phone either diverting to message bank, or he's on a call.
Sent a text to his brother to check on his safety because the behaviour is unusual (and because he's said crap when he's drunk that has me worried about his disappearing).
Who leaves home with a six-pack?
What an asshole he is.
Didn't even bother telling me ... or leaving me with any cigarettes.
I'm now twice as strung out as I was.
I can't take any more of his sh*t.
With any luck he'll clear off of his own volition so I can salvage what is left of my life.
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Sh*t. He's returned. This is no good.
Fumbled with the keys but managed to get inside. Smashed. Swaying.
Says I'm a "c*nt".
Sitting on the couch holding his head.
Tried to get him to go to bed. Says that's what he's doing. But he's still sitting there on the couch.
I might have to grab my phone, keys and cigarettes quietly and if need be, f*ck off from here.
There goes my listening to Red Ice Radio about Hillary. LOL
I feel sort of sick in the stomach.
Might go outside and smoke (bought cigarettes earlier).
This is seriously f*cked.
This is precisely why I insist that he does not drink around me.
Drink in the park or wherever he was and return home isn't what I had in mind.
This is also why I have insisted on telling him that he cannot 'control' drink.
Called out "fucking shut up" as he can he my keystrokes.
I'm out of here.
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EU-NATO IMPERIALISM ❌ 
