I’m having a lot of difficulty figuring out what to do with my life right now, in regards to my relationship. My story is a little complex and long, so I’ll try and sum it up as best as possible:
I currently live with my 7 year old son and his father (my boyfriend). We have been living together for 2 years. Before that, I lived alone with my son. He was born from an unplanned pregnancy, when I was 21 years old, and his father and I were not together. It was an “accident”. His father lived in another country and although I desperately wanted us to be together, he only decided that was what he wanted too 3 years ago (when he moved back to my country). In the meanwhile he was always “present” with our son – Skype conversations every weekend, constant financial support, etc and going “back and forth” with me (It was emotionally very difficult and he would lead me on, cheat, then say he didn’t want anything serious, etc.).
Anyway, when we really got together (3 years ago) at first it was marvelous, everything I had ever wanted. We got along very well and I was very much in love and satisfied that my son could be around his dad more often.
When we first moved in together, which was 2 years ago and he moved to my apartment, things started getting “messy”. He smokes pot every day, pretty much all day. He would never do it in front of our son, but lock himself in the office and do it, a lot. It bothered me, but that wasn’t the worst part. We started getting into fights every single day, about almost everything. He wanted to determine exactly the way the household was run, where things went, how things were cooked, where things were placed, the way in which things were done, to the most extreme detail. I hadn’t realized how controlling he was. It was never about me, or where I want, or who I hung out with – he was never jealous or controlling of me, but very controlling of things in the house (I am positive he inherited this from his mother, and possibly the pot doesn’t help either). He complained about this, then that, and again and again. It started to drain me. He would say how small the apartment was, how loud the neighbors were, how I put the pans in that drawer instead of the other, how this was in the freezer instead of the fridge. The demands and complaints would never end.
Finally, we decided to move into a different apartment together, somewhere new that could be ours. When we were about to sign the contract to move, his parents decided they were moving out of the country and said we could live in their house, rent free, until it was sold. So we went…
Things got worse. Since it was the house he grew up in, he felt he had even more right to boss me around, to determine exactly how things were. I regretted my decision to have gone there only a few days after. If I didn’t push my chair in after leaving the table he would say things like “If you don’t follow the rules, you can’t live here”…I couldn’t believe I had given up my house to be in a place that felt nothing like home. The fights got more and more constant. The drug use continued. He was completely bipolar. One minute he was in a mood and would pick a fight about anything (if I tried to ignore it, or not give in, he would poke poke poke and demand I responded), then everything was lovely, everything was fine. I would still be resentful about the last fight and he couldn’t understand, because for him it was already in the past – why was I being so remorseful? I began to feel like I was losing my identity. I would follow all the rules, silently, just in the hope that I could avoid another fight. If I acted spontaneous, and he wasn’t okay with that, I was being disrespectful, selfish.
When I came home after having shopped something, he would judge, criticize. How could I spend that money (that was mine)? It should be put in our son’s educational fund. All of the money I spent, was only okay, if he thought it was okay…If not, he would tell me I was irresponsible. I felt like I was dating my father (and a much stricter and annoying version, too).
When he would give me gifts, he would later throw them in my face. “I shouldn’t have spent that money” “You are so ungrateful” “Look what I got you, I don’t feel appreciated”…etc.
With our son he was always very hands on – very helpful with absolutely everything. Although he was also “controlling” with him, and very rude and unpleasant if something didn’t go his way, when he was in an okay mood, he was spectacular with our son, playing, super hands on, and our son is crazy about him. Always super attentive to me too, sweet, caring, giving gifts, taking care of me when I’m sick, very reliable whenever I need him. Always up to go out, do new things…
Things would get even worse when his parents would visit (for 3 months ?!). I did not know that was part of the deal. And they are just like him – strict. I would have to have breakfast and dinner with them at the table every day. I had no freedom to do what I wanted in the house I lived in. I would have to eat what they chose, at the time they chose and make small time…all of the time. I told my boyfriend I didn’t want to live there anymore, that I wanted us to have our own house, that not paying rent was not worth it, I begged for us to go. He would get furious – how could I be so ungrateful and selfish. We were not paying rent, our son was living in a huge house, we were saving money. He shut me down so many times, I gave up asking.
We went to couples therapy for a few months, I really loved it, but then when we started getting at the root of things he would fight with the therapist…he was so resistant that the therapist asked for him to make sure he still wanted to go and until he decided he didn’t want to anymore.

The problem is the “rollercoaster”. The daily fights. The nagging. The complaints, the rules, feeling like I’m losing myself.
I am still at his parents with him and his son, but I am so miserable.
I want to move out with our son.
I don’t know if I want to break up, but I really want to get out of there. I don’t want to live at his parents anymore, in the middle of their things, following all of these rules, fighting all of the time (in front of our son, too). Plus the drug thing. Our son is too young to realize it is going on, but it is so sad when he is locked inside of an office and my son is outside of the door playing, and the smell of it…
It’s just not the life I pictured myself in.
I have found an apartment to go to (and this isn’t the first time), all of the other times I was too “afraid” to actually make the move. He would emotionally threaten me, that I was ruining a family, ripping lives apart, taking my son away from his father. That coupled with my insecurity and fears for doing the wrong things for my son, of maybe regretting my decision, makes it even harder. I do care about him, and I know he is a good person, but I just can’t stand the dynamics of this relationship. I feel like there are so many core issues with him, and I don’t want to spend my life trying and hoping to solve them for him.
I don’t know what to do…