by faithful » Fri Jun 16, 2017 10:53 pm
I can tell you what I did once I reached the "this will never get better" stage. I did a lot of imagining how we could separate (we had been married 30 years). I knew I would have to move out, he never would. I started looking for ads for apartments I could afford on my own. I just created an image of what separating would look like. This took months really. At first it was just a fantasy, but in the back of my mind, I knew I was making a plan. Then I started thinking, what would be the last straw? What would have to happen to make me actually move out? He acted in cycles. The accusations would subside for weeks, and then, for no particular reason, they would come back, usually with a quiet, "we have to talk" and then escalating into shouting to me how I needed to confess my affairs. Eventually, during a downtime, I decided that the next time he made an accusation I would insist that he make an appointment with a psychiatrist (his medical insurance had changed, so we could not go back to his old one, who was useless anyway). I looked at it as, if he went back on his medication (which did not make the delusions go away, but did temper his reactions to them), I maybe could live with this. But I knew, and he knew, these meds had really bad long term side effects, so he would, in effect, have to agree to some major health risks only so that we could still live together.
Then, I made a deal with myself. If he would not go back to a psychiatrist, of his own accord, I would leave him. Then it happened, he woke up one morning with, "We have to talk." and I told him I was going to work, and if he had not made an appointment with a psychiatrist by the time I got home, I would leave him. I got home that night, he had not made an appointment, and I gathered up my things from our bedroom and moved them into a guest room we had. That weekend, I looked for an apartment & signed a lease. I spent the next 2 weeks or so packing, and then I moved. When I first walked into my quiet apartment, all alone, I actually did a happy dance. Knowing I could now go home to a quiet place, I would not have to worry about walking into a madhouse, was a wonderful feeling. I had mourned my marriage enough by then, I really just felt happy.
We didn't discuss divorce at that time. Part of me was hoping that once I really left, he would get back into treatment (even though I knew it was hopeless, I still could not totally cut my ties to magical thinking). He wasn't the least bit upset. In fact, his first words to me when I told him I was leaving him, was, "Is in OK for me to date?" - and then he got on the phone that night and made a date for the following Friday night. It took me about 3 months to actually file for divorce. Trying to make a property settlement with a delusional person is pretty hard (he continually told his lawyer things that were not true to try to get more than the 50/50 split our community property state required). I persisted, and after about 18 months, the divorce was final, our assets were split, and my life has been peaceful ever since.