An Ultimatum.
Life was more stable after PHP. I learned what I needed to keep myself safe, and how to make those things happen. I sat down with my mother-in-law, and told her that I felt lost in their house, and that it was making me worse. I needed to feel "needed", not like a free-loader. She asked how she could make that happen, and very nervously (I was terrified to step on her toes and make her think I thought she was inadequate; which is so far from the truth.) asked her why she wouldn't let us pay rent. She said she wanted us to use our money to pay off our debts, and get ourselves back on our feet. I said "If you won't let me pay rent, will you allow me to contribute in another way?" "What way?" she said. I explained to her the importance of scheduling and control of routine, etc. in managing my condition. She already knew much more than I realized, because she'd spent the whole time I was inpatient and in PHP reading EVERYTHING she could get her hands on that related to my disorders. Finally, I gathered up the nerve, and told her that I wanted to take over the grocery shopping, cooking, and cleaning of the house. I was afraid that she'd be offended. In reality, she looked at me and said "Seriously? So, when I get home from work, the housework will be done, and there'll be a hot meal on the table, without ME having to do ANY of it?" She jumped up, hugged me, and said "You could have asked me this two YEARS ago!" I was *so* very relieved, and things got much better. I felt like I had control over my life, I was eating much healthier, and I felt like I was contributing.
Like I said in an earlier part of the story, though... my father-in-law and I don't see eye to eye. It was difficult living with him, to say the least. Jake hadn't learned to stand up to his father, and so his father and I would get into screaming matches, while Jake stood by and watched. Finally, I'd had enough. I made it clear to Jake that since he now had a job that had better pay and benefits, we could afford to be on our own, and that if we weren't on our own when we got our tax return, I was leaving without him. As much as I loved his mother, I couldn't be under the same roof as his father anymore.
A Break-Up.
Jake and I had been fighting. I chalked it up to stress from living with his father. But one day, he lost his temper with Maddy, and I lost MY temper with him. I'd had enough, and wasn't going to take it any more. He never talked to me, all of our conversations were one-sided, and now he was being less than the father I expected him to be. I called my mother to come get the girls and I, and I packed our things and left. His mother, who had been my best friend until that point, didn't talk to me for a few weeks. She was angry at me for not calling her and telling her I was leaving. It hadn't even crossed my mind to do so, and I felt that she didn't have a right to "meddle" in my marriage. The day I left, my mother re-arranged her entire house to accommodate the girls and I. Two days later, I called Jake to come and talk, to work out an arrangement. His father told him not to talk to me, or give me any money. Jake finally stood up to his father, and told him "She's my wife. They are my children. Even if she doesn't love me any more, I still love her, and it's MY responsibility to take care of them." Jake told me all of that when he came to see us. I was glad to see that he had finally stood up to his father (and have absolutely no doubt in my mind that his father said those things. I really wouldn't put that, or worse, beyond him.) He and I had a long talk, and worked out a support agreement for the girls and I, and who would pay which bills, and when he could see the girls. He came to see them every day, and slowly, we started going on dates, and relearning each other. We were seperated for four months, almost to the day.
Next: Another Move, and Readjusting
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