I can't stand my fiancée's son, and I'm tired of living like this.
Up to this poin, I am the only adult in his life that does not take his abuse. And subsequently, the fact that I am not his biological father notwithstanding, I am the one who receives the most abuse from him. He throws me constant shade, looks at me in a way that, where I to give that look to my parents at his age, I would have had the taste slapped out of my mouth. He growls. He yells. He stomps. He rolls his eyes, closes his eyes, and closes his ears to me. He hides. He closes himself in the bathroom for 15-30 minutes at a time. You know, basically anything to avoid listening to me. If I'm up and walking around, he runs away screaming like a lunatic, or he deliberately blocks my path with a sour look on his face. If I'm talking to his mother, he stands between us, blocks my view of her, and makes as much noise as he can. If I'm affectionate with his mother, he rushes to her, hugs her, and climbs on her while giving dirty looks.
And while we're on his relationship with mama, he also has zero independence. If she isn't in the room, he will not stand for it for more than 30 seconds without seeking her out, even going so far as to barge into the bathroom. He follows her so closely that he literally steps on her heels. And she does not discourage this behavior. If anything, she encourages it. She frequently takes naps with him in our bed and calls it "cuddle time", which can last upward of four hours at a time. During which he has locked me out of our room on several occasions now.
And to make matters worse, we have his biological father to deal with. The man had checked out of the marriage since before the baby was born. He spent all of his free time playing online games and growing to north of 400 pounds. And speaking of his computer, the entire reason baby co-slept until I arrived was because ex-husband was choosing to use baby's room as his computer room, a hole he could crawl into to avoid the family. The crib was never even built. It remained in its box, propped up against the wall and gathering dust while he wasted his life on Everquest.
My fiancee has a rare form of blood cancer. On the pretense of being there to take care of her, he cut his work hours to half time. All of which were spent playing games either on his computer or his phone, none of which were spent easing her burden. He couldn't even be trusted to pay his own bills, read his own mail, or manage his own bank account. He would leave dishes and garbage strewn about, refusing to clean up after himself, including steak knives that the baby could easily get his hands on. After I got here, and ever since, I have been dealing with stratified piles of his ineptitude. Almost every day, I find new garbage of his that predates my arrival, or another unmended piece of this house, which her parents bought and he let fall apart.
Now, he remains a negligent and destructive presence in baby's life. He has him for a grand total of 48 hours out of every two weeks. And even then, most of the burden of raising baby falls on his parents' shoulders, with whom he lives. He deliberately chooses work schedules that screw his own son out of time with his father. Right now, one of his days off is Monday. And as soon as kindergarten starts, that day will be unavailable to baby, so his bi-weekly 48-hour visit will soon be reduced to a single overnight.
And even in this brief amount of time he has with him every two weeks, he still finds new ways to do damage. When he's not with him, he shows no interest in his education or welfare except when it's going to cost him money. When he is with him, he damages whatever hard-earned progress we've made by letting him act out, get hurt, and giving him whatever he wants. We had to twist his arm for a year to get him to give him his own bed, and he still frequently co-sleeps for one excuse or another. In ex-husband's room, which is just as much of a steak-knife-littered pigsty as this house was when he was living here. Every week baby visits his father, he comes back having regressed just a bit more, and having become just a bit more of a terror.
I cannot stand this kid, and I cannot stand the circumstances under which I am forced to deal with him. I can't help but feel bad about it, given that I am now one of his primary caregivers, and that he very clearly has some signs of autism (though we won't know for sure for quite some time, as the wait list to have him evaluated is 15 months out at minimum). But everyone has their breaking point, and I have been dealing with this for almost two years now. I left my family and friends, everyone I ever knew or loved, to be here with her and help her raise him. And now, I'm on the verge of a relationship-ending fight with him, his father, and his mother.
I don't want to leave her. I still want her, and I don't want to leave her high and dry in this predicament all on her own. Especially not with her illness. But I cannot stand to live like this anymore.