I've been wanting to ask a question here for a couple of months, but the idea of doing so has scared me, so I've continued finding excuses to delay. I'm actually afraid to talk about this, but I'm not certain why. It might be that I'm scared of what someone might tell me or it could just be that I'm gun-shy because of the complete lack of understanding that most people feel when I've tried to discuss it with them. I'm not sure. So I apologize in advance if I come across as unsure of how to relate this and ask my question.
Five years ago, I backed out of marrying a woman who I'm going to call Lucy. It's obviously not her real name, but it's easier than saying "her" all the time. I loved Lucy, but I saw things in her that scared me and which I didn't understand. She had serious mood swings. She could be intensely emotional and upset one evening, needing serious help to cope, but act the next day as though it was no big deal. She could (rarely) lash out at me in anger for no real reason and then blame it later on having been nervous about something. Anger was frequently her default emotion when she didn't understand what she was feeling. We spend massive amounts of time talking about her feelings and the dysfunctional family in which she grew up. (Her mother was her primary emotional influence, and her mother only knew how to show love by pragmatic nurturing, that is, by doing things for people. She almost never told Lucy that she was loved and she showed very little emotion, even thought Lucy begged for attention.)
I come from a dysfunctional family as well. My father has never seen a counselor to be diagnosed, but my counselor believes he suffers from narcissistic personality disorder. After reading a lot over the last five years about NPD, I agree completely. My therapist also believes that my mother (who was bi-polar) also suffered from BPD, but there's less evidence about that. My mother abandoned her three children when we were fairly young, and my father raised us. In retrospect, I believe my father's controlling ways were the trigger for my mother leaving out of self-defense, but I grew up feeling abandoned nonetheless. When I was young, I believed my father to be the perfect father, but it was only after I got into adulthood that I slowly became aware of how much anger I had at him.
When I backed out of marrying Lucy five years ago, it was largely because I was afraid of her issues, even if I didn't have any idea what to call them collectively. I just knew what I saw scared me. I backed out of the wedding, but we continued to talk to see if we could still end up together. She still wanted me, so I was the one with the option and the indecision. After about six months of this, she finally gave up on me and immediately started dating someone who had been after her for a couple of months. It came with no warning and she literally went from telling me how much she loved me and wanted me to being publicly "in a relationship" with the other man within a week.
That was when I started seeing a therapist seriously, both to work on my own issues related to my family of origin and to understand why I had gone from not being able to commit to her to desperately wanting her back when it was too late. Five months after Lucy started dating the other man, they were engaged. Four months later, they were married. For the first couple of years of their marriage, we had no contact of any kind.
Two years ago, we reconnected by email. (She lived hundreds of miles away from me now.) After a few emails, she told me that she was going to back away and leave me alone, because I was too "addictive" for her. She then left me alone for about a month and then found an excuse to write again. The contact became far more frequent. I found out that she had been suffering from tremendous depression since about a year after she married, and she was also feeling suicidal most of the time (something which had never been an issue for her). I became the person she turned to for emotional support. She's married to a very good man who's a good financial provider, but he doesn't understand her and he's generally cold and aloof. (Although I haven't met him, the general personality reminds me of her mother.) She's completely miserable and has started questioning everything about her life, including the religious faith which has always been important to her. In addition, she's developed an alcohol problem. She initially tried to hide this from me, but eventually confessed to it and said she used it (drinking a lot of alcohol alone) to deal with her feelings as they related to me. After about six months, we talked on the phone for a couple of weeks, but she had to cut it off, because she felt she was getting too close to me. Our conversations weren't overtly romantic, but were rather about our daily lives and feelings -- the sort of thing that a supportive couple do with one another. We were acting the part of a couple emotionally, even though she was maintaining the facade of a normal marriage.
After she cut off the phone conversations, our email contact was sporadic for five months or so. Then she was out of the country for a month (with a friend on a mission trip, not with her husband). Shortly after she returned, we started talking on the phone again. The contact got more frequent, to the point that we were talking every single day for hours on end. All the while, she was continuing to go through the motions of living a normal married life, but it's clear to me that her husband doesn't take much interest in her. Otherwise, we would have never been able to spend so much time on the phone all the time for close to six months. I finally reached the point that I realized that she had the best of both worlds, but I wasn't getting much in return. Although I enjoyed (and craved) the contact, she was getting her emotional needs met with me, but was able to go right ahead with her normal life without having to change anything. She admitted to me that she wished that we had married, and she also admitted that she still loves me most of all. When I've suggested she needs to divorce him, her response has been, "But I promised." She feels duty-bound -- and people in her family just don't divorce. (Her father was a pastor.)
I cut off the phone contact, but we continued sporadic email contact. All this time, she had been seeing a therapist in her city (one who I found for her, because the woman has a specialty in BPD). Even though she was in serious depression and still feeling suicidal, she didn't like to talk about it at times, because it would frequently make her feel attacked. About two months ago, I sent her a link to some podcasts about depression that I had found interesting and useful. A few minutes later, she sent a reply that merely said, "Please leave me alone." I didn't respond and I complied completely with her request.
For reasons that are too complicated to explain here, I became aware a couple of weeks ago that she still watches my Facebook page. (It's an open account, so anyone can read my page. That's because I use it for business purposes, and I post all the time.) On my birthday earlier this month, she unexpectedly sent me a gift along with a sentimental note. Last Friday, I posted a link on Facebook to an announcement of a new business project I'm working on. She clicked "like." Even though she asked me to leave her alone, she can't leave me alone. (And, let's be honest, I don't WANT her to leave me alone.)
I realize this is long and complicated, and I also realize that I'm leaving a lot of details out. But I'm still very much in love with her and I would love to end up with her. Her behavior has suggested to me that she would really like that, too, but that she doesn't want to pay the price of making the change. I also suspect that the similarity between her mother and her husband might lead her to confuse what she feels about him and have some subconscious desire to make her childhood right by somehow making this marriage work. But I can't know what's going on in her head and heart. I can't DO anything at the moment insofar as pursuing her, and I'm not sure that would be the best approach anyway. I'm very clear on what I would like to happen, but I'm aware that I might be waiting for a change that never comes.
Every situation is different, so I don't believe anyone here can give me the perfect solution. I realize that some people would tell me to somehow find a way to force myself to move on. (I've tried, but it didn't work well, during the two years when I wasn't talking to Lucy.)
I suppose I have two specific questions:
1) Do you see clues in this story that make you believe you can see her intent or eventual actions?
2) If my objective is to end up with her, what actions on my part would have the best chance of reaching that goal?
If you've read this far, I appreciate it very much and I'll appreciate any thoughts you might have.
Thank you.