21 February 2012

Yo - Yo

I worry that I only write about the bad things; as if that is all I ever experience.  And to not write about the good is to not be grateful.  That is not the case.  It is as if the good are fragile and must me carefully observed.  To spend too much time or pay them too much attention only results in twice as much bad.  That is silly of course.  But as much as I try to pretend I am not, I am human.  I am a girl........ which means I am, at times.... crazy.  Though I feel that I must point out, this girl is crazy because her boy is stupid.  That was mean.  But in my house, as long as it is funny........ it is not mean.  So laugh, dammit.

So things were going well.  One night my husband is working and asks me to stay up just a little longer with him until he is finished.  I think this is sweet that he wants me around (also knowing how important to me it is that we go to bed together).  I am exhausted and get up 3-4 hours earlier than him, but I consent.
He comes over after completing his work and sits with me unit the show I was watching is over and I get up to go to get ready for bed.  After washing my face and brushing my teeth, he is back on his computer again.  I ask him if he is coming to bed.  He is rude and suggests that the work he is doing is for both of us.

Now I am unhappy but figure I won't win, so I got to bed alone.  Approximately 10 minutes later I come out of the room and proceed to tell him (in my most diplomatic way) that I just stayed up an hour later for him because he asked me to and least he could do is come to bed as promised.  But somewhere in there, I lose it and everything I have held back since my last melt down pours out.  And he stares blankly at me like the crazy bitch he knows I have become.  And as I stand there sobbing and heart broken, he just says, "So you want me to come to bed now?"

That was the day before Valentines Day.  The next morning, exhausted and trying to function on less than 1 hours sleep (I can't sleep if we go to be bed pissed at one another.......... or rather I'm mad and confused at where we stand in our marriage).  He calls me on my way in to my new job and acts as though everything is OK.  I tried to apologize but he just blows everything off.  So, I suck it up and do the same.

By the time I get off work, I am feeling better and decide that I is my job to make V-Day good.  The evening was wonderful.  He cooked dinner.  I showed off some moves I learned in my Burlesque class............ he was very impressed.  It was AMAZING.  Like old times.  And I wanted to write about it.... in detail.  But, again.............. its a roller coaster ride.

Last he was getting ready to go out of town for work.  The last time he told me this, he was really spending the night with some girl.  I try to trust him but he has done so little to earn it.  He tells me that if I want, I can get up at 5am and drive him to his coworkers (he is riding out of town with him)... but this is up to me.  I am grateful that he understands how difficult it is for me and gives me this option...........as ridiculous as the option is....... I am grateful.  Then our youngest comes down to show off a new skirt I had just bought for her and things get weird.  At first I think his objections are just to give her a hard time.  He doesn't really seem mad.  I play along but then things go terribly wrong.  He is really pissed.  He accuses me of trying to make him the bad guy.  Wait?  What?  I thought when it came to what their daughters wore, dad's were supposed to be the bad guy.  He yelled at me.  He never yells.  Ever!  I feel like shit.  I tried to apologize but its not good enough.  I am so lost and don't understand how we got to this place.  I feel like Alice when she fell down the the rabbit hole.

So I apologize more and try to explain myself.  Pretty soon the sound of my voice is the only one I hear. He has stopped talking.  Stopped responding.  I ask if he will just forgive me and he says yes.  But he is still mad and I ask him why and he just says that I am the only one still talking.  I don't know what he wants me to do.  But I cant get past that fucking condescending look on his face.  I storm out and tell him that I am sleeping in the guest room and he can drive himself out of town...........or where ever it is that he is really going (I know, I know...........so shouldn't have said that).

After 1 hour and 2 Benadryl, I know I will not get any sleep if I do not go back down to our room and fix things.............I only waited that long because I had hoped he would come get me.............though I know better.  I turn the lamp on next to the bed and ask if he is awake.  He is and I rush through the apology, taking blame for everything (as always).  He asks me to turn off the lamp.

As I lay next to him and try to control the sobs, he asks me if it would be better if he just left.  I say no.
I wait some time and then ask him if he wants to leave.  He says no.  Wait a little longer and then ask him why.  He says it is because he loves me and our daughter.......... and my grandmother who lives with us.
And that is it.  After a period of silence, he falls asleep and I pray.

"Father, please take control of this life that is so fucked up.  Please take it away from me as I can do nothing productive with it.  Please do not allow me to keep trying to it take back and run it, as clearly I am not qualified to do so.  I am yours, Father.  Please find some purpose in my existence because I am not sure I have one any longer."

And today everything was back to being ok............except that he is still out of town until tomorrow and I am here fretting about it.  As if that have ever helped.



1 comment:

  1. PTSD is such a roller coaster, isn't it? I hate not knowing what the day will bring, if it'll be a decent day or not, and how long the decent day will last....I never know when his mood will change.

    I understand.

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