Time to rant.
Things are less than peachy. They are downright baffling to me. While I have know for a long time that I was either pretending to be happy or I had bouts of acceptance that made me believe I was happy. Either one is true and false at the same instant. I knew that I loathed the life I was living, the life that I had made myself mold to make someone think I was happy. Or that someone just did not have a deeper intellect or caring of what was going on outside his three foot personal space. I don't know. I do know that I was led to believe that I was wrong in feeling restless or wanting more for myself, that I was somehow messed up for feeling that I needed to go to school to learn a trade because it can wait and I need to be home for my stepson or we did not have the money. Wait. Wait. Wait.
I caved and started smoking again. We had several discussions about the topic and the next day he finds the cig butts and has an all out fit about them. We had a giant row over the fact I was smoking and how we could not afford it. I had to get him to understand that being a parent to him, his child, and my daughter with no release of stress was coming out as losing my temper over the stupidest things. So he accepted the smoking. I can only take so much medication before I am just another pill head. Plus the fact that on the drugs my thinking slows down to a pitiful rate and I have a three year old. I cannot be a zoned out mother, she would grow up to Dora raising her during the day and sitcoms at night. It is unacceptable.
Now we skip to two weeks later. He is in more and more pain. I fear it is nerve damage in his neck, the back muscles are spasming hourly, he is constantly on muscle relaxers and pain pills. The muscle relaxers change his personality to where I really cannot say how he is going to react to anything. The next day his mind is wiped blank from the day before and we have the same conversations over and over again. But each time it is a different conclusion. He only focuses on two or three words out of a sentence and suddenly blows up over those words.
Today, for instance, he gets a hard tone in his voice and it pisses me off because I feel like I am a teenager getting lectured. I get a tone back and then he starts in on me because I tell him not to raise his voice at me. He flips, and starts actually yelling at me, with the classic and cliche line of " That wasn't yelling, THIS IS YELLING AT YOU"
It was over the fact that I forget that people asks simple questions in a nice tone when they are actually baiting a hook and when you answer wrong, but honestly, they flip out. I should have been more guarded and not been relaxed. Sad, I know. We were about to drive past a discount tobacco place that he gets his snuff at and I asked him if he wanted to stop and get our nicotine.
"our nicotine, huh?"
"yeah."
"What, you want a carton?"
"I dunno, I guess. Do you think it would be cheaper?"
"Just how many packs are you up to a day now?" --This is when the tone started, deeper bass, harder edged words.
"I am not up to any packs a day. Don't yell at me."
" I am not yelling at you. Why the fuck do you want a carton then?"
"Stop yelling at me. I don't want a carton. You brought it up."
"Why do you want a carton? Why are you getting so defensive with me about this?"
"Stop yelling. Just go in and get you shit and I will get my shit later"
He peals out of the parking lot.
"I am not yelling at you, THIS IS YELLING AT YOU! DO YOU WANT ME TO YELL AT YOU?"
I shut down and stop talking, and now it is my fault because I threw " little fit and went crying to your fucking mama's house". I stayed at the house for three more hours after that, at the end of the three hours I went to him to try and even things out and he wouldn't look at me. I asked him if he wanted me to leave him alone and he told me yes. I asked him for how long and he said he did not know. So I packed up my art stuff and my kid and left for my mom's. He never said a word. I think he wanted me to leave. I think he wants me to leave. So it will be my fault and he will not look bad for kicking his wife and three year old out of the house.
In my defense I have only stayed at my mom's house when we were fighting twice in the 10 years we have been together. The rest of the fights, I stayed and fought it out or stayed and suffered the silence and coldness. Either way I never ran off or ignored the fact he existed and watched TV for hours/days on end. I tried. I really actually tried.
I even tried calling later (conditioning) and he was flippant when I told him that I was staying at my mom's. Do you not care? No. You always get to do whatever you want, so what does it matter how I feel? You throw your little hissy
Ah, that is right. I forgot I never ever try and stay at the house and work things out with you. I always run the fuck off.
yeah, you do.
It is like arguing with someone that is bi polar-- they have no recollection whatso ever of what they say. He is the same way. He will say whatever he wants to win the argument. And the more hurtful and untrue the faster it will fly out of his mouth.
The sad thing is, I just realized this about 2 weeks ago. How sad is that? Now what the hell do I choose?
Left or right?
It's a Jalie Halloween!
5 years ago
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