Ever since I was first pregnant with our daughter (she is almost three now) my husband has flown into rages that seem like they come out of nowhere to me. At first they were just yelling, screaming, and pounding on walls and doors with his fists. They progressed to me getting grabbed and pulled. He has never hit me or left any significant bruises.
He has been psychiatrically hospitalized twice in the past two years for severe depression, and he has gotten much much better at managing his - what he calls - "frustration." Before his first hospitalization, we would have incidents at least 3-4 times per week.
Now they are down to lulls of up to 5 months between incidents.
But we have had two in the past two weeks. At the end of November he was terrifying to me - he grabbed me once and pulled me out of in front of the bathroom door where I had placed our daughter to keep her safe. He ended up in the hospital for that one, after I said I was leaving and he repeatedly, to multiple family members, police officers, and a mental health crisis responder, stated he was going to kill himself.
Last night he wanted to have sex, and I tried but I was just too tired and too ill (I have had a horrible sinus infection for the past week, and had just worked 3 twelve hour shifts, yesterday off, and today starting the next of 3 twelve hour shifts. Also, my mother died on Nov. 5th.) I told him this. I was literally falling asleep in the bed, lying under the covers.
He started yelling and pacing, he ripped the covers off me. This time I didn't get grabbed or pulled. He called his parents to come over (they try to help because of his mental illness - my husband's uncle hanged himself). He threw my cell phone across the room and took my Chromebook and asked if I wanted him to "wipe" it (I am taking classes also and am in the middle of a large paper). He stated that I spend all my time on my phone or my computer and don't have time for him and don't care about him. He also stated that he had spent 20 minutes giving me a pep talk (about my mother) but that I didn't care about his needs (I think he meant in general, not just sex.)
And I was lying there thinking, 'If I make him mad enough this time, maybe he'll kill me, and I won't have to deal with any of this anymore.'
Which led me to not answer him but just lie there with my eyes closed, which did escalate him as I knew it would.
So here we are.
Once upon a time, he was the love of my life. I don't even know what's going on, if this is really abuse or if it is two individuals with mental illness who need to get counseling and fix what's broken, for better or for worse.