Saturday, September 8, 2012

Bitch and moan, and whine, and moan

I am having one of those moments I despise. One of those moments where I have so much I need to get out... so much I want to say in here... because this is my diary, MY release. My place I can say whatever I damn well please and not worry about the consequences. Yet, I am.
Because today was a crappy day. And when I get to writing, I know my husband will criticize me, and maybe it will just make things worse between us. Comments will get left, telling me how horrible he can be, and he will just get defensive and insulting... and that will just make me more angry, because instead of admitting his wrong, he will look at it as if I did something wrong or twist it around somehow. This has become the pattern you see.
And then there is that fake friend, who I know still has her way of reading what I write (i.p. tracker remember?) who I simply do not want to give any more joy to by allowing her to revel in any more of my misery. Maybe I am wrong there. But for whatever reason, since all that nonsense, with everything that has gone wrong, I have just grown increasingly enraged at her, and her lies. Just like every time my daughter says her name... I think "gee, I was so stupid for letting that fake bitch into my heart, into HER heart" because now my little girl calls for someone who will never be there for her. I know... I am name calling and being petty. Like I said... it was a bad day.
So, where do I start? Oh, first off... I realized my diary was acting all wonky for someone yesterday, and incase it happened to others, there was an entry I did yesterday, and it is here incase you did not see it.
For all I know, it all started yesterday. I was just sort of "down" for really no describable reason. That probably set off some chain of events that got my husband to wake up in such a shitty mood today. Then again, maybe it's just pathetic how I manage to find a way to blame myself... when he was the one out of line.
Today he decided he was going to be hit out of no where with the realization our tenants may still be in our house when we get to NY. (Ok, have I NOT been trying to come up with a back up plan for how long now?) And he was just in a crappy mood. So, he goes upstairs to nap, or whatever (which he does every day now, though I have been guilty of taking advantage of him being home and doing my share of naps too..) and the kids were just in rare form. I put my little guy up for his nap, and he fussed and fussed, and my daughter decided she wanted to go get him. Obviously this was not cool, that meant no nap, which would mean a SUPER cranky baby boy. I instant messaged my husband's cell phone to get up... I wanted him to be aware and awake, so I could simply take my daughter to the store... but apparently I disturbed his nap...
He stomped down the stairs and took my daughter and put her in her room - to punish her. Granted she was misbehaving, but putting her in her room now RIGHT BESIDE Aidan's is only going to wake him up more. I don't even know exactly what all happened after that, but when I was going to take her to the store, "super dad" decides that would be rewarding her for her bad behavior and took her to the other room. This began the argument. I told him I was not comfortable leaving her with him while she is cranky, and he is cranky... (he has been SO freaking snappy recently) and that was all it took. "oh you don't even want to go there" he says "YOU can't even handle them" and "YOU won't get off your fat fucking ass to tuck them in at night" and something about my "fat ass" being "plastered" to the chair and finally "you are going to make me say something I will regret..."
But at that point, he better have already been regretting it. Of all the things. My most sensitive topic. I know damn well how much weight I need to lose. I know damn well how fucking embarrassed I am going to be, getting back to NY, and facing his mother, his Aunt, our neighbors, everyone who remembers me so much slimmer... even after just having my children, I was slimmer. While here, I just fucking blew up. And I wanted to cry. Just break down right there. Thankfully I didn't. I took my daughter, and left for the store. (For the record, he got into the habit of being the one to tuck them in at night because the stairs hurt my hip, not because I am "lazy" and "fat" - but then again, he seems to think my hip really doesn't hurt from what I can tell.)
Then the guilt set in. The guilt of her seeing us fight. The guilt I had leaving my baby boy there without me. I just wanted to make everything better. I even told my husband, as he attempted to give me some excuse for his words over the phone (that is all it was, an excuse, he may believe it, but get real) that in a strong marriage, we should pull closer together in a crisis like this... not push each other away. And I feel so far away from him right now. If he had any respect for me, he would never talk to me like that... no matter how angry, or tired, or stressed he was. But he did. And now life goes on. And that he did it in front of my baby girl...
Thankfully I did not grow up with parents in some fairy tale marriage. I would have loved it... but I didn't. I know real people have real problems. So I don't have some unreal expectation. But I don't like this feeling.
He tried to say he was sorry again this evening. But it feels like its "just words" right now. The tension between us. The stress all around us. I am expecting things to get so much better once we get back home.. and some of the uncertainty lifts... and things get back to "normal." But it is just really starting to get to me. And it is wearing me down beyond my limits.
I want to scoop my sweet babies into my arms and protect them, and reassure them everything is going to be ok. And I want to hit my husband over the head for being such a jack ass so much recently, but at the same time I want to hug him and tell him I understand his stress... I just feel like a big mess.
Is it so bad that I want to be able to actually SHOW my emotions when I am worried? On one hand I am told I need to "talk more" and "open up" more - yet when I do... I am "being negative" and "bringing him down."
One day at a time.... right? Tomorrow will be better.

12:31 a.m.

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