My boyfriend just had a blow up again. Screaming, slamming things, insisting that everyone hates him and that everyone is out to get him. All I want to calmness, so I don't feel like I have to make my day revolve around his illness. I have my own problems too, but he hardly ever takes mine into consideration.
He didn't even ask about how I was today. I told him my nerves were pretty bad today, and I was about to explain why--mostly due to my brother's call--but then he finished my sentence with, "Well if they are, it's your own fault." and threw the pillow on the couch next to me, ran upstairs and slammed the door.
I called his mother, and the only advice she could give me would be to call the hospital and see if it had a psych ward. But that requires him signing himself in--and to him, he isn't the one causing the problem---its everyone else. Everyone is out to get him, everyone is keeping him from being happy or being normal. He says he shouldn't even exist.
I'm so upset. I talked with my dad, crying. My boyfriend is upstairs in our study with the door shut tight. He said he didn't want anyone to ever speak to him, look at him, laugh around him, or anything unless absolutely necessary.
At this point I feel like he needs to go to a hospital. I don't want to abandon him because I LOVE him. Inside he's a little boy who never had a chance to have a real family, who never got the love he deserved. Now, when he has a chance at that family--with someone who accepts his past and is trying to help him...he treats me like crap. :(
If I abandon him, he'll probably just self destruct anyhow. It kills me. But at the same time, I can't do this. I have my own mental problems I deal with every day. I have fought for years to get better, to get to a point where I am in control of my mental health. Then stuff like this comes up--needless conflict--and I feel years of pain, sadness, and anger just well up. Now I am thinking of everything now. How he treats me. How my dad lives his life. How my mother--the one I counted on most--is gone forever. I'm not comparing my life to his, but the fact is that I have worked for years against this mental illness. I know the damage it causes to yourself and others. But the key was that I TRIED to get better. I became involved in my own welfare. He is still at the stage of blaming everyone else for just not 'understanding' him.
I'm sick to my stomach. Crying. I took my xanax, but I am shaking.
In truth, I am also sorta scared that he may become physically violent. Right now he has no real place to go, and I sorta don't either. We live with my dad, but we can't just kick him out the door and say good riddance. He never is thankful for the things he does have, only angry for the things he can't have.
I'm trying to calm down, before I start to spiral and need to call the crisis hotline myself. :(