Did I do enough?

I've posted here before about the end of my marriage to my very dear, but very sick wife of 16 years. Her primary condition is in the OCD spectrum, but there are also the attending battles with severe anxiety and depression, coupled with social fears & paranoia, and occasional descents into borderline personality disorder. Life with her, at times, could be about as miserable as I can possibly imagine. Because I cannot imagine anything much worse than witnessing the torment of someone that you love and being (seemingly) unable to do anything about it.

But that is that key point, now, with which I constantly wrestle: I.e., did I really do everything that I could do? Over the last couple years of our marriage, I had time and time again brought myself to the conclusion that I just could not cope with it any more. And that wasn't just based on a feeling of wanting something different for myself. It was more of a functional issue, really, inasmuch as I was starting to falter in my ability to perform at my job and keep-up the household. I felt as if I had been so worn down, that not only was I no longer helping, but my presence was genuinely a hindrance to my wife's struggles. It seemed as if all my efforts to help simply added-up to increased pressures on her. It was as if I couldn't figure-out a way to avoid the downward spiral into the toxicity of mutual despair.

It seemed as if the only possible thing to do was to end it. And so that, finally, is the choice that I made. I had hoped that the end, at least, could come with some sense of amicability and that we could part with a respect for one-another and for the time that we shared together. But like so many other things in my life, I held out frivolous hopes that could never come to fruition. Things ended very badly, with my wife winding-up in legal trouble and the two of us, now, being barred from any communication with one-another. Were it not for her family, she would likely be out on the streets.

I can't help but fixate, now, on the notion that perhaps I have made a terrible mistake. In the depths of her soul, I know my (soon to be ex-) wife to be the most kind-hearted, giving, caring, and genuine human being that I've ever known. Her smile and sense of humor is so warm and comforting. And when she was herself, and able to express her own personality, it all seemed so very simple. She made me very happy and contented, and I know that she desperately wanted to show me love. To be ripped from those things, in this way, and to experience her absence in the full, terrible knowledge of what has happened to her, is the most wrenching experience I can possibly imagine. I am full of compassion for her, even as the divorce settles and I am faced with a dire financial predicament as a result of it.

In those few, rare moments that we were able to find our respective desires to love one-another and to seek happiness and hope, it all seemed so simple. She enjoyed such nice, simple things in life. We liked to go hiking and bicycle riding together. She liked to be outdoors and to feel the peace and freedom of finding a solitary place in the wilderness to sit quietly and take-in the natural sights and sounds. She liked to work around the yard, too, and derived a lot of pleasure from planting bulbs in the Fall and then seeing them come up in the Spring. I made her a special little patio, under a tree in the yard, where she could sit comfortably and view them.

...It was just this past Fall that I'd finally made the decision to seek a divorce, and now as things come to a close, all the lovely tulips and so-on are all in full bloom around the house. I have a desire to go pull them all up so that I don't have to burst into tears every time I come home or leave, but I don't have the heart to do so.

I love her so much, and miss her very, very much. I am so lonely and afraid, and am wracked with the guilt of feeling like I did not do enough. I feel like I failed her. I feel like we met one-another for a reason--that I was meant to be the one that would stand by her side, without fail, and meet her every need to the very best of my ability.

But I just don't know. The one thing that I keep coming back to is the argument that I constantly had in the pit of my soul, the essence of which goes something like this: Never once have I felt any resentment or problem, whatsoever, for my wife's "special" needs. For those issues I have nothing but infinite understanding and compassion. I have always been perfectly fine with making whatever accommodation necessary, and sacrificing of my own needs and desires in order to better facilitate her needs. What I could never accept, however, is argument that there was "nothing" at all that could be done to alleviate her struggles. As was always emphasized to her, through many and varied forms of therapy, it had to be her OWN decisions and actions that would lead her to any semblance of relief from her suffering. She had to take-on a responsibility for herself and develop her OWN desire to lead the best possible life that she could.

But this is exactly what she could never do, and I could never adequately communicate my desire to unconditionally support her, on the one hand, but also to want her to take her life and her mental health into her own hands, on the other. She became desperate and helpless, rather than finding her will to fight. The only conclusion that I was able to draw, in the end, is that at some level her mental illness had "won" the fight and taken her over completely. She was no longer able to love herself, or anyone else, truly enough to continue the battle.

I do want to believe that I did everything that any human being could do. I feel like I tried so hard. I look back and can honestly feel a certain sense of pride at the sacrifices I made, and the sense of resolve and hope that I retained in my heart. But I also made selfish mistakes, at times, and feel that I could've done so much better. I am, in the end, merely human, and have my limitations. It would appear that love does not conquer all. Mental illness is an insidious, insistent beast that in some cases will simply not yield. We are beholden to it, in our respective fates as mortal beings. Owning-up to this fact, and attempting to accept it, is probably the most difficult task that I, personally, will ever face.

To my dear wife, wherever she is, and whatever is happening in her life: `please know that I do love you forever. I would set myself on fire for you. There is no force in the universe that could ever tear my heart from you. I wish for you peace and happiness, and will do anything you could ever need to have your share of those things.'

I ask anyone else who has faced similar circumstances: did I do enough? Is my heart true enough? Did I make the right sacrifices? Is my mindset correct? Is there a different approach I should have taken? Should I have completely given-up on my own happiness and sanity to continue providing her with support? Or is removing myself from her life perhaps the best gift I could've ever given her? I would like some sort of closure on these thoughts, even if that closure comes in the form of a negative conclusion.

it sounds very much that you are speaking from the heart, that you are open and honest and you sound like one of the kindest loving understanding supportive people in existence. coming from my abusive past, you are simply too good to be true and I want to know how to clone you. seriously though, if you are seeking absolution, you've got it. it sounds like you have done everything possible but due to her mental illness, she just couldn't grasp it. your life was being destroyed. there comes a time you have to say uncle and you did before you lost your entire being. now you are picking up the pieces, stand proud knowing you did all you could. you cant beat mental illness. ive tried. I know how hard it is and it keeps beating me back down and I just do my best. its all I can do. its time you take care of yourself. do it without guilt. be free. its time. take care.

It sounds to me as though you probably did more than could be expected. Many marriages end with far less effort invested toward saving them. Some of us who struggle with mental illness are able to maintain at some reasonable level. But others just continue to go downhill no matter what. There's simply nothing we can grab hold of to stop the descent. Sometimes we experience both to varying degrees.

I'm married to a wonderful woman who I feel is very much like you in terms of her devotion. But I'm constantly aware that she must have her limit too. So I struggle daily to try to do what my mental illness demands of me while not stressing our relationship any farther than necessary. I'm constantly second-guessing myself. And I'll admit it is wearing. Sometimes... no... frequently, I find myself wishing I could just let go & give myself over entirely to my illness. So far, I can't. But that doesn't mean it won't happen at some point. If that happens I'm certain my wife will ask the same questions you are asking.

I do hope that you have someone in real life you can talk all of this out with: either a close friend or a therapist. It will take time to resolve all of the conflicts in your heart.

sounds like you did a lot, did as much as you could!
people have their limits too & had you pressed further, you would find that you may not have ended much good to her or yourself.
try to heal at this point. you wife's issues need 'you times 4' or 5 ... but not just 'you' - there is only so much each individual can do re: issues that are typically 'larger' than we are. try to heal ...

The fact that you question yourself after putting so much thought into your decision in the first place... You did the best you could at the time... right? You did what you could, then. Yes. Enough. Mourning the many losses a breakup can cause takes time... and time... and more time, sometimes...
Meantime... don't forget to be nice to yourself, you know?

Thank-you to for these responses. I do appreciate it. I still do question myself almost every day.

I would like to think that I did as much as almost any human being could. For some reason, however, I can't seem to accept myself as human. I look at the mistakes that I made throughout the course of my relationship with my (now officially ex-) wife, and I can see that for the most part I was coping as best I could, trying to do what I needed to do to stay sane and fulfill some of my own needs and desires while upholding her interests too. I know that I worked hard and sacrificed a lot. Yet I still think that, somehow, I should've done more. I wasn't "perfect," and therefore I am unacceptable and should suffer.

It is an awful feeling, and I know it to be "wrong," yet it is the thought process that has been drilled into me, over so many years. I've been made to feel, so often, that no matter I ever did, it was never enough. I could never, ever make her happy. She was always depressed, always upset or even angry about something. Her state of mind made her incapable of truly appreciating any of life's "good" moments. I've been trained not to "enjoy" life, and simply cannot see any value to my own efforts or even my own existence at this point. It all just seems pointless.

She was truly my only reason to continue existing. I poured everything of myself into helping her. Now, without her, I simply don't know what to do. I have no friends or close family with whom to interact. I have no one to talk to. I know that I could go out and perhaps find some new friends, but it's a difficult enough process at this point in my life that I really don't want to. It's easier to just be alone than to face the almost inevitable rejection, and the realization that at this point in my life I am almost certainly not going to form any additional close ties with anyone. I look into the future and just see an abyss. I see my worst fear coming true: dying alone, babbling to myself, in a crumbling old house. It's terrifying to me. It weighs on me every single day of my life.

I would like to meet someone new, if that were possible, but I am so appalled by the prospect of what it entails. In that respect, particularly, I have been incredibly down on myself, my entire life. I am just too shy and have too low an opinion of myself to ever really make the effort. I can't tolerate the rejection and I can't face going through the stages and struggles of a new relationship. I just know that I can't do it and remain sane.

Had I known that I would feel this way, day in and day out, I don't think I would have ever initiated the divorce. I would have chosen the day-to-day misery of the relationship, with the occasional highlights of nominal contentment. At least in that context I had the baseline satisfaction of knowing that I was acting as a provider and defender, of sorts, allowing my wife to live with some semblance of comfort and security. That was something. That gave my life purpose, at least. But now I just feel like a complete and total failure, as if my divorce is the final toll of my string of small failures as a husband. I don't think I will ever reach a point where I am capable of giving myself credit for having done all that I could in support of my wife.

Look at this as an opportunity, not as a failure. An opportunity to DO something you want to do. An opportunity to live. Yes, it is an opportunity to pour everything you have into helping yourself be happy. Learn from the past... become a better person because of your mistakes. Live for yourself.
Find out about yourself. No one else can make you happy without your permission. Give yourself permission to be happy. A chapter in your life has closed... A new one is opening. Look ahead, don't dwell on what's behind. Live and learn. Nobody is perfect.
Hey... quit beating yourself up, here... you know?

You are a wonderful person, i hope you know that. 16 years is a long time to dedicate your life and support, albeit to your loved and dearest.
Mental illness is a beast, ive seen it. Not in the same situation but ive seen it all the same. It was my parent. Its hard work and that's why they have professionals to deal with it. Sometimes 2 or 3 different specialists just for one patient... you're just one guy.
There has to be point where you think about yourself and put you first. Its what you deserve.
I feel you did all you could. You should sacrifice things in your life sometimes for the ones you love, its proof that you love them. But that doesn't mean you have to sacrifice all that you are. You need to retain a sense of self.
I hope you find happiness

I feel for you. And I feel the same as you, except my issues are the mental illness. And after a couple years of my wife dealing with it, and me finally gettin better, she has built up all this resentment and it is a constant struggle. I can't help but feel that I haven't done enough either, but it's at a breaking point, and eventually you just have to accept it which i think u have done.