I've known for awhile now that our marriage is a disaster. It's fairly obvious. We sleep on separate couches, our happiest times are when we're not in the same building, and I could go without seeing him for a few weeks before I'd stop to think if I missed him. I'm tired of it...
He's never happy about anything. When he worked overnights at Walmart, he whined constantly. Ok, fair enough, overnights suck. He said he'd be happy once he got to daytime. Got to daytime, he still whines constantly. He applies for a "real" professional job. Says if he gets it, everything will change and he'll be friendly and happy again. Well, he got it, and he's even worse.
My mom helps us get a brand fucking new car, and he's been moping and being a prick for the last 4 days. Nothing nice said about the car, he pretty much listed every negative he could think of about it to his mother on the phone last night. He takes all the fun out of everything. I've been SO excited about the new car, but he has to ruin it with his whining and complaining and sullen attitude.
He is OCD about the house being clean, so I clean it allll the time. It's never a mess, even my mom said that and for her to say so.. Well, it's clean enough. It's not perfect, my rats make a smell and I wish he'd let me move their cage into the bedroom, where the smell could be kept under better control. I mean, it's not bad, but you can tell we have animals. I don't see why he cares about the rat cage. When I changed from the nasty old shower curtain to the new one, he about had a fit over it. It took me months to get him to let me change it.
No matter how hard I try, how much I clean, how much I try to make things nice for him, it doesn't matter. Why am I even trying? Nothing is good enough, nothing ever makes him happy.
He thinks the animals don't need anything- that they can go without food, water, that vet care is optional.... And my pushing for those things (of course my animals eat and drink!) makes me a horrible person. Chance is getting pretty old, and skinny (not for lack of food, she's just deteriorating the way old dogs do) but he won't consider the vet or even discussing whether her time is coming or what. His cat hasn't been vaccinated in 2 years.
I can't leave the house alone. I can't have any hobbies. Even going for a walk down the road without him is some kind of personal insult to him, and I'm expected back as soon as possible. Time spent out cleaning Buddy's stall or pasture or feeding and grooming him is considered "special fun Amber time" and not work. Since hauling 80 pounds of horse poop is such a quality recreational pursuit.
I have to drive him to blockbuster at least once a day, because he's got that stupid "rent all you want for a month" thing, and wants his money's worth. He'll go 4 times a day. I do it, I watch the damned movies, not because I like to (I hate watching TV and movies) but because it makes him happy. But never a thank you, or a chance to do something I want to do.
Thursdays are miserable days for me. Therapy day, we leave at 12 and get home at 5. It's exhausting, depressing, and stressful. But according to Jason, I get to go out and "have fun" for 5 hours. Yay.
I wish he'd just disappear. I can't leave. I wouldn't be able to get Jaymes the care he needs. I could work 2 jobs, and be able to pay rent/car/etc but I wouldn't have any spare TIME for doctors and therapy, for working at home with Jaymes, or to even BE there for Jaymes. I would be working the majority of the time, and he would just get even worse. Sometimes, though I know it's so wrong, I think it'd be easier if something happened to him. Then I could mourn his memory, not have the last dying moments of the relationship be filled with anger and yelling. Just have good memories to think about. That and widows benefits from SSA.
He'll come home soon enough, say he's sorry (he won't mean it), I'll say I'm sorry (I won't mean it), and we'll go about our day like all is well. Then it'll be an hour, a day, maybe a week before the next big fight. Every day I like him less and hate him more. I hate how he treats Jaymes, I hate how he treats me. I hate that he does good things, like cleaning and laundry and cooking, because that somehow makes me look like the bad person.
I hate how his mother thinks he's god's gift to men because he doesn't get home from work and sit down in a chair with a beer, like her late husband did. Apparently she thinks that because Jason changes diapers and cooks and helps with things, that I am a sub-par wife and have no right to any kind of complaints. i don't deny he helps out. I'm a godawful cook, and even when I do cook, he won't eat it. I do clean, but he never thinks it's good enough so he cleans again.
What to do, what to do. It's not enough to be on the verge of insanity thanks to Jaymes. Now he has to pile more crap on me. Jason freaked out on Jaymes today and yelled at him for having a messy room. Apparently Jaymes needs to be expected to clean his room twice daily and keep it clean. Guess who has to enforce that one? ME. I don't have the energy for more fights with Jaymes. My priority with him now is keeping him safe, us safe, and tryign to get him functional in public. I pick my battles, and making him cater to Jason's obsessive cleaning isn't a battle worth the fight. He thinks that because he has his BA in Psychology and behavioral whatever, that he is the ultimate authority on everything. He knows better than I, the therapists, or the docs. He doesn't have any interest in Jaymes therapy. Never been to a session, never seen a treatment plan, never attended an IEP meeting for school, but he knows better. He's the one who told me I didn't need to be taking my Paxil, because depression is a "mind over matter thing and you just need to get over it and be positive and you don't need medications."
Makes you just want to take a big ole dose of something and just drift off.
Still Here, Just Incredibly Busy!
10 hours ago