My [29f] partner [30m] partner offered to pay for a new gym membership for me, and when I declined, citing covid concerns, he got really angry. I feel like our relationship is falling apart before my eyes, it's all my fault, and I seem incapable of fixing anything

So as the title states, I'm 29f and he's 30m, UK. We're in a longterm relationship, together for almost 15 years since we were 15 years old. I'm not going to go into it too deep, but obviously because of our age at the start of the relationship and the breadth of our shared experiences, we're very close and extremely bonded to each other. In spite of this, things have not been good at all recently, and I really need some external perspectives.

The instigating issue was that before covid I was regularly going to the gym, and since gyms have opened back up in the UK he's been offering to pay for a gym membership for me, which is obviously super kind and generous, but I've been repeatedly declining citing health concerns, because, like, global plague. He asked me again tonight, and again I declined, wanting to wait until we got vaccinated, and he got kind of... angry? He's arguing that we're young, healthy, that death rates have been virtually nonexistent here in Scotland etc. I argued back that all of that is true, but that I'd just rather wait. That whilst everything he said holds merit, my main concern is that a. gyms are massively unhygienic places as it is with lots of coughing and sneezing and sweating, and people gasping their fluids into the air and wiping them all over the machines, and b., lots and lots of people our age have already died from covid, and the one thing they all really have in common is that they probably all thought "it won't happen to me", right up until they're in a hospital bed, vented up and taking their last gasp. He was obviously still upset, so I confessed to him that I was hurt that he'd treat my health so blasé. He then angrily shot back that I've been blasé about my health for years. And to be honest he's not wrong.

I was anorexic through most of my teens up until my early 20's, when I fell into a really heavy depression and packed on a shit load of weight in a short amount of time, which I've heard is really common for people recovering from ED's. I'm about 30lbs lower than my highest weight, but ever since then I've been hovering around 190lbs-196lbs at 5'6" and have struggled to lose it due to repeated, reoccurring bouts of what I guess must be chronic depression. The last year in particular has been especially bad though.

Before covid became a properly known thing I had been following the news and had caught on that it was coming earlier than most. Because of that we (more just me now due to his work) have been isolating/distancing since February 2020, and it's been awful. We were already living in a place we'd moved for his job and due to the ageing demography of the place I'd really struggled to meet people and make friends. Even at my job none of the 4 other women I worked with were younger than 55. I was already lonely, but now I couldn't even walk around outside.

Earlier that year he got a job offer at a new company which paid significantly better, and we ended up having to move in the middle of the lockdown, which was extremely stressful, not least for him because he was the one who had to organise everything including finding a new flat and driving us up with all our belongings to the new location. Because of the move I had to quit my retail job, and finding a new one in the middle of the lockdown was virtually impossible, so I've been unemployed and had almost zero income since March 2020.

In the middle of all of this I went no contact and became estranged from my N-mother, and then my sister, who had been diagnosed with terminal brain cancer (glioblastoma) died, and I wasn't even allowed to go be with her when she passed. I found out she'd died through a WhatsApp message. Because of covid we weren't even allowed to hold a funeral. Part of what's left of her corpse is currently sitting in a cremation pouch in a drawer about 4 feet from our bed, and it's the only thing I can think about whenever my partner and I are fucking, which is few and far between at the moment because my libido has been torpedoed. I am still intensely attracted to my partner and I tell him that regularly, we're very handsy with each other, but the last few months I haven't been able to bring myself to channel that attraction into physical action. I can tell that my lack of intimacy/initiation is affecting his self esteem. A regular complaint of his is that I'm all talk, and he's right.

Because I had so much free time, and one of my skills is in art, I thought I'd use this as an opportunity to try something I'd been wanting to do for a while and build a digital art career, and so far it's gone pretty well. As of August I'm at 6k followers on Twitter and am making £39 per month on Patreon, and it's reached a stage where the numbers are starting to snowball on their own, but now it seems like it's just introduced a new problem into our relationship. I started taking commissions, and the last commission I accepted was a 10 page comic commission for approx. £1000, which he was initially very happy and supportive of. It's been 3 months since I accepted the commission though, and I'm progressing through it really slowly, largely because I've never done a comic before, I'm depressed as shit so already drawing slow, and that the main appeal of my art is that it sports dynamic and intricate lineart, and a comic is a series of lots of little illustrations, which means lots of panels of dynamic and intricate lineart. He's really angry about the situation because as long as I'm engaged with a commission I can't accept anything new, which means other than what I'm making on Patreon, I'm not bringing anything in. I'm really angry and upset with myself because I know I shouldn't have accepted such a large commission when the entire job is predicated on my creative output, which I is being stunted by the depression.

Because I was unemployed for a while we agreed that in exchange for him supporting us I would take on all the domestic duties, so almost everyday I handle the hoovering, the dishes, the dirty washing, putting the clean washing out, putting the dry washing away, taking out the bins, making the dinner etc. Because of the immense guilt I felt over my financial situation I decided I'd start baking more. Frivolous, a bit sad, but hey, everybody likes baking. He especially loves my baking. I thought. He usually does. The other day he snapped at me, got angry, telling me that I shouldn't even be baking whilst I'm supposed to be working during the day. The reality is that I didn't eat breakfast or lunch that day since I'm trying to dedicate myself to a restricted diet. I had used that free time to bake for him, but even that little gesture ended up slapping me in the face.

I can't get anything right it seems. Almost every day when he gets in I feel that I'm being quizzed on my performance.

• Did you go for a walk today?

• Did you use Ring Fit today?

• Did you do your Headspace meditation?

• Did you read your self help book?

• How much of your commission did you get done?"

• Did you apply for any jobs today?

This is all stuff I'm supposed to balance in the 8 hour window that he's gone as well as staying on top of the housework and producing art for my socials. I don't know if I'm just disorganised or shit or what, but I am really struggling to keep on top of all of this daily. Is this normal? I really don't know. The real problem is that if the answer to any of these is no then it's cue dissatisfied face and an extended, 1 hour+ lecture (no really, he's good at talking) on how I need to do better and what I need to do to fix my problems, which usually results in a falling out because I've started to lock down and emotionally disengage because I'm rapidly finding myself unable to cope with the situation and my repeated and continuous failings. I know he's just trying to help, but the only thing I'm able to hear is how useless and worthless I am. Obviously this just makes him even angrier and more frustrated.

Right now every day sucks. I have no income, no money, I'm in a new place, with no friends, can't drive, can't join any hobby groups because of this bastard pandemic, estranged mother, dead sister, grieving, depressed, nobody to talk to, and despite clawing the walls from being cooped up in isolation every day, I feel so burdened by my daily responsibilities that I can't bring myself to drag myself outside much. Look what happened when I tried to create time to bake for him. I feel like no matter what I do I can't win.

Funny thing is, in terms of where I am in life, mentally, emotionally, because I've come from an extremely abusive environment I'm technically in the best place I've ever been, and I know that I've seen massive emotional growth in the last 2 years alone, but I'm starting to realise that in the last few years he's rapidly outstripped me in terms of his position in life. I can't keep up. I just feel like a massive piece of shit who can't get anything right. I can't be happy, I can't get a job, can't finish commissions on time, can't even be intimate with my partner. I went on propanolol recently to cope with the massive anxiety I had developed, and it holds back the physical symptoms during the day, but at night when it wears off I feel it all rushing back, the adrenaline physically rushing into my body, and now I'm struggling to sleep. We are arguing all the time, and the other night he broke down crying about how alone and unsupported he feels, and the only thing I can do is hold him and promise to do better, promise to get better, and then proceed to repeatedly fail over and over again.

It's not that we don't talk, we do, we are communicative, but I haven't been great recently, because I've become so terrified of triggering another exhausting lecture, triggering another argument, that I deliberately avoid acknowledging anything negative around him, so I'm constantly lying to him in effect, and it builds. Every night we go to sleep with a kiss and an "I love you". That didn't happen tonight. Instead it's 3:56 in the morning and I'm lying here crying as I type this.

tl:dr: I'm fucked, the situation's fucked, and all this fuck has been seriously rubbing off on him and it's obvious he's struggling to cope, but I can't seem to get my shit together. My mental health is in the toilet and I just really don't know what to do or how to help our relationship at this point. I have no one else to talk to. I just really, really need some outside perspectives and advice.

edit: forgot to add, I have been on the waiting list to speak to a therapist as of April 2020, but anybody living in the UK right now knows that the NHS' mental health services are completely overloaded atm and hardly anybody is being seen right now.

Submitted May 06, 2021 at 08:17PM by ThrowRAYouthBread https://ift.tt/3f5QjwK