My habits are the only ones for which I will accept responsibilty.

I sincerely hope I am overreacting, but something happened today that turned on a few lights in the relationship with the husband. I'll give you some background before I tell you, okay? He has a weight problem. It's not to the point where his life is in danger, but he's up there. I feel bad for him about it. I try to help. I give him little tips, reminders, etc. The thing is, I can't take on that extra responsibility when I get hijacked by PTSD. Sometimes it takes me weeks after a bad run to be able to get to the point where I am more than just adequately functional and can again attain the level of function and expanded involvement that is required for me to chase him down and feed him his supplements, etc. When I get around to that place, he has ballooned up and I get scared for his health. The last time that happened, I got him to lose quite a bit so we could solve the problem of his life being under-insured. I know that sounds callous, but how can I be sure that I could support the children properly if something happened to him someday? I was in a good enough space often enough, so I was able to help him maintain for quite a while with stuff like, "Honey, why don't you go for a walk or something? Honey, look at the nice new exercise bike I bought! Here's your Omega 3 Fatty Acids. Here's some water. Hey honey, have an apple - it's good for you. Honey, it's 10:30, how come you're eating pizza? Maybe you could have just one or two pieces? Honey, do you really need extra cheese AND extra mayo on that burger? Maybe you could have extra of just one instead? Honey, I bet if you kept taking the flax seed oil, cutting little corners, and not eating really fatty stuff before bed, this could be yours to keep."

*sigh*

Then, when I get hijacked by crap, he puts on 30 or 40 pounds or more, depending on how long I'm down. Recently, I have been trying to let him handle more of it himself and just encourage him hoping he will take the initiative to handle it on his own this time. I've told him lots of times over the last few years what it was that worked each time. It's not drastic, it's just flax seed oil, cutting little corners, and not eating large amounts of fatty foods on his way to bed. He won't do it by himself and I didn't take over this time. He's gained even more and his clothes don't fit and he keeps packing away the food like there's no tomorrow. It's finally come to the point where he's sluggish, has a lot of joint pain and inflammatory conditions, acid reflux, sleep apnea... Today... he blamed it on me to try to get out of taking responsibility for his own behavior even though just seconds before he said that he really likes food and likes to eat a lot and doesn't want to stop. First I was a little angry. Now I just feel a little empty. I can't control what goes in his mouth. It's not my mouth. But he tried to make it my fault. I didn't take the bait. I told him what he said just seconds before and how I thought he could just stick with the truth of what he had just admitted. Now, he's STILL trying to blame it on me, but now it's because I won't help him anymore. Catch-22. No matter what, his eating will not be his problem in any way. He would rather it be mine so he can then blame me for the failure. It's not going to be my problem. I quit. He's on his own. I am really disappointed and I worry about what this might be telling me about his character. I'm not perfect, either, but I don't make him responsible for my actions. This just leaves me a bit cold. A little lonelier.

Strangely (or not?), now I feel like I don't have the right (or desire) to ask him for anything or get any kind of comfort from him. I guess I'll be making my own coffee. I wouldn't feel right taking it from him now. I worry that he might try to take any needs I have for seeking comfort from him and throw them in my face or use them as an excuse for something. I don't want to ask him for anything and I feel really distant from him now. I even wonder if it could be things like this that mark the beginning of the end.