I can't do things on my own

[Jsinjin]

I'm not allowed to do things.   I realize that I wait for her to leave in order to do the dishes or wash my clothes or out something away.    The biggest projects sit undone and before anything is started every single contingency must be reviewed.   I can't even set a chair on the table to vacuum beneath.   

I can't imagine the PD brain spiraling and worrying about every aspect of every single detail.    I can't even remember where I left my glasses and it just doesn't matter to me.

I'm so very scared and nervous anytime I do something.   My DS (16) wanted to convert his bed into a single by taking down the top bunk and putting it away.   We did it while she was out.   The number of issues with this were unreal.   

Everything that is done around our home must be micromanaged by her.   

[Poison Ivy]

what happens if you do things on your own?

[1footouttadefog]

I lived like this for a long time.

I can remember when we moved into a new home 30years ago.  We took stuff from storage a few items at a time and place them in the garage.  Each item was scrutinized and dusted etc before going into new house. The closet or cabinet shelf it was going on was listed and examine ed.  Items were centered and reorganized several times.  It had ti loom good behind that closet door.   You would have thought we were unloading ancient Egyptian artifacts and setting up museum displays. 

For years I was letting things go at another house because even putting a picture on the wall or hanging a towel rack or putting plastic shelving in garage was a huge ordeal.  Afraid to drip something in garage floor when servicing riding mower, a big deal was made of a sauce pit boiled and blooped a deep of sauce on walk or store top.  Even though a wet towel was present for such things it was still a huge deal and like the entire house would tumble down on us for such recklessness.

I am sorry you're micromanage to this degree.

I remember dealing with certain aspects early in our marriage.  Then later decades later things became off the charts crazy with micromanaging.  At first when I did not fold laundry well enough, I was smart enough to insist it was his job which worked well as he needs ritualistic duties to unwind and folding laundry and placing it and re arranging his drawers etc relaxes him.

[11JB68]

Me neither. He doesn't want to do stuff, but god forbid I try to do it, I'm doing it wrong, or making him look bad because he should be doing it.
Everything takeslonger than it should because it has to be analyzed and micromanaged

[Spygirl]

While i was in the fog,

I nad developed a strategy to improve my expdh home. I would wait until he took a trip.

Whenever he took a trip i could do a big remodel, or project. When he got back, he was usually satisfied with it or didnt notice. Or maybe he did but wouldnt comment. I usually had a "look what i did for us" tour.  His response was usaully that he would have spent the money on something else. That was code for me wasting time and money. Of course if i had given him the money he would have squandered it on partying. I spent 10s of thousands during the marriage to make the home pretty, and socially acceptable to his friends, because he was always concerned it wasnt good enough.

Anyhoo, i get where you are.  I do hope you can find the courage you need here. I have no regrets getting divorced and changing my life anymore. Its only been a year and a half since i separated from him.

[Findingmyvoice]

I had the same feelings.  my exBPDw would make any task excruciating.
Even if it was something that she knew nothing about, she was always right and expected that I would listen and do things her way.

18 or so years ago, I was moving some dirt and she was upset that it was taking me so long. (this was taking my time away from her and she was having to do some chores on her own)
She was convinced that I was wasting time by unloading the dirt with a shovel.  She told me I should just use a broom and push it all out of the pickup at once and I would be done. 
This was a full yard of black dirt, probably 2000 pounds or so.

I explained that a broom would not work, and that I was doing it as quickly as I could.
She argued with me back and forth and called me arrogant.  She knew that it could be done and I was just arguing with her to be difficult.  She was smarter than me and I was dumb in addition to lazy.

My point is that they always think they are right and you must agree with them at all times. 
Even if the laws of physics get in the way.

With me it became the opposite.  I felt that when she was out of the house I couldn't do anything.
I knew that no matter what I did it would be wrong.  I would get worried that she would return and be upset that I did the wrong thing or that I did not do it her way.

Instead, I played her game and asked permission for every little thing.  Towards the end when I started trying to regain myself, I vividly recall her yelling at me for doing things without her "consent".  It was one of those moments that was a trigger point to realize that she would never change.  The only way I could exist in a relationship with her was to do everything that she wanted, agree with everything that she said, tend to her emotional needs, put up with verbal, emotional, physical, financial, psychological abuse.

Finally, I chose not to.