Understanding

This has definitely been a very trying time of year for us--- for him.  It always is, every year.  However, he finally let down his walls this past week and let me in.  I know, as I have known all along, that his anger is his defense mechanism that flares up when he feels upset.  He very rarely shows sadness or fear to me.  Anger is almost always the predominant emotion and that can, and does, cause a lot of tension and frustration between us. 
This past week he let me in.  He cried on my shoulder, he talked to me about his traumas instead of shutting me out, and he let me help him.  I felt like we were partners again and not strangers or enemies living in a house together.  I wish it could be like that more often.  If he would let me in and allow me to be there for him, I think we'd have a much better relationship.  Instead, he tries to act tough and keep things from me because he doesn't want to hurt me or expose me to his pain.  What he doesn't realize is that yes, the things that he has gone through and what he has to deal with on a daily basis are horrific, but they don't have the same hold on me that they do on him.   He could lean more on me and let me share his stress or take it away.  Ironically, by trying to protect me and keep me from his pain by acting out in anger, he ends up hurting me more with his outbursts and anger.  

I need to hang on to these moments and remember that underneath the mean words and sarcastic, biting comments, is someone who is hurting and in pain.  Let me be clear, it's not okay to be nasty and Lord knows, he needs to work on communicating better and thinking about what he's going to say before he blurts out horrible things.  That being said, I can work on things too and try to be more understanding.  I do vent frustrations and lately I've gotten pretty despondent and bitter about how things have been going.  I need to take time for myself in a healthy way.   

Bottom line, I need to make sure to take time for my own mental health. I can't help him if I'm not in a good spot.  Hubby needs to take time and think before he acts and let me in instead of keeping me away.  I'd love to say that this is going to happen right away but let's be real.  He has had PTSD for 10 years and we're still trying to figure it all out.  I don't have all the answers and neither does he.  

What works for you?  What doesn't?


  

We'll always have Paris

Things are tough around here.  The household has been under a lot of stress this fall with our daughter's         issues going on and with stress building up from PTSD.  I honestly don't know what the future holds these days.  The other night hubs and I had a fight.  It started out small, but don't most start out that way?  I was in the laundry room which is in a part of the basement that isn't finished.  Hubs opened the door and threw a huge handful of clothes at me.  I was already having a bad day, and that just irritated me.  I knew he had no intention of doing any of that laundry.  I told him so, and he smarted off and started throwing toys in the room too.

To make a long story short, I open handed slapped him across his chest when he picked up a tray of toys to chuck in there.  I lost it.  He has been going into rages lately and been throwing things.  For example,   he recently got mad and threw a wooden spoon across the kitchen breaking it in half.  When he picked up that tray I thought, "oh no you don't!".  I told him to stop but my words mean nothing and instead of walking away I slapped him.

I hate that I did that.  I don't want to be that person.  He hurts me with words so I hurt him with my hand.  I don't think so.  That's NOT RIGHT and it CANNOT happen again.

Who have I become?  What has become of our marriage?  I am so sad all the time, and I have no patience anymore.  I cannot remember the last time we kissed or hugged or the last time he said "I love you" without me saying it first.  When we first got together, we laughed a lot and had so much fun together.  I honestly cannot remember when we last laughed together.

It's coming up on Thanksgiving.  Almost a decade ago I became engaged in Paris on Thanksgiving Day.  That was the best time I can remember having with my husband.  I felt like the center of his universe.  We laughed together, seeing the sights of Paris and exploring together.....Without any inkling of the struggles that lay ahead of us.  I still remember riding the bus and seeing Napoleon's tomb with him and viewing Notre Dame.  We only had a weekend and the highlight was him proposing under the Eiffel Tower after dinner.  When we left Paris we said someday we'd be back.  Maybe for our 20 year anniversary.

Now, I am not even sure we will make it to our 20 year. Heck, I'm not sure I'll make it to my 10 year anniversary.  That makes me heartbroken.  When you get married you get married for life.   You promise for better or worse, sickness and health.  But what happens when that person you married seems to have become a completely different person.  I feel like I'm in mourning for what could have....what SHOULD have been.

I don't know what the future holds, but at least we'll always have Paris.  That is a memory I will treasure forever.

Duck Dynasty lessons

I've calmed down a little since earlier.

He's still being an asshole, but I'm trying not to let it get to me.  I know he's hurting really badly right now.  It's weird, he was just fine days ago and then the downward spiral started out of the blue and it came fast.

He came in about a half hour ago.  We hadn't really talked since the argument earlier.  He had stayed downstairs on the futon, covered up by a blanket in the dark and I was upstairs with the kids.  That was fine with me.  I didn't want to talk to him when he was like that.  Well, when he came in a few minutes ago, he was still crabby and he also was talking about how he doesn't trust anyone and he started asking me who i could count on for anything.   I answered "mom and dad".  Him too.....but I will admit that I can count on my parents more than my husband.  I know my parents will always drop whatever they are doing if I called and needed them.  They've been there for me.    Hubs is there for me too, but when he's in a deep PTSD mood, I will say that his own feelings are most important to him and I'm kind of left to fend for myself.

He talked a little, but soon left to go back downstairs.  Now, we've given up cable (groan) and we got an antennae and we've been utilizing Netflix.  It's an adjustment, but we're saving quite a bit.  Anyway, while he was talking I was on my laptop going to A&E's website to watch the full episode of Duck Dynasty.   I watched last week's episode which focused on Phil and Miss Kay's wedding anniversary.  I sat there watching it, and at the end of the episode Phil and Kay renewed their wedding vows.

If you are a fan of Duck Dynasty, I suggest you read Willie and Korie's book.  In it you find out that back in the day, Phil was a drinker and he was just plain mean.  He came around, obviously, but there were some hard time for Phil and Kay.   Watching the episode, I actually cried when Kay was saying her vows to Phil.   To paraphrase, she said she loved him when he was not so nice, and she loves him now, when he's really nice.

Here is the clip.  Watch out, you'll cry:

So after watching that I realized, once again, that no marriage is perfect.  We all have our struggles. Some more than others, for sure.  But.....We all have them.

I love my husband.  He's a good soul who is tormented.  It still doesn't make it right for him to be an ass, and I'm a strong enough person to let him know.  Still, I stop and think for a minute and realize we've come a long way.

I hope someday we will renew our vows and I can say that I loved him when he was not so nice, and now he's really nice!

Asshole

Why can't he be happy?   We've had a good run over the last few months.  I almost forgot how awful he can make me feel and how quickly he can make me cry.

He's definitely starting up one of his long cycles.  It seems an ugly twist of fate that he always gets this way in the fall.  Autumn is my absolute, hand's down, favorite time of year.  I love the pumpkins, the weather, football, corn mazes, haunted houses, candy apples....everything!   It's especially cruel then that during my favorite time of the year is when his PTSD is the absolute worst.  We miss out on so many family memories because he doesn't want to go, or doesn't feel good.   In the past I've stayed home not wanting to make memories without him.  I cling tight to the American family ideal.

It's crap.

I've got to just go out and do it myself.  He isn't going to be much use of anything for awhile.  All the freaking drugs he's on and none of them work to pep him up.   Nope.   The only drug that works at all for him is weed.  Seriously?   I'm like the biggest opponent to legalizing marijuana but unfortunately it's the only thing that makes my husband likeable.  And....he's out.   He doesn't have any and he doesn't have ready access to any.   So really, for the next unseen many weeks, he's just going to be a total ass.  It's totally unacceptable to me.  Having PTSD doesn't give you an excuse to be an asshole.   I get that he is stressed and worked up, but that doesn't give you the right to yell at me or the kids.

Earlier today I told him I was going to my mom's.  I was heading downstairs to get my laundry together when I stopped myself.  I'm always the one leaving.  Many years ago, we got into a huge fight and I kicked him out of the house.  He ended up going to his mother's and we remained separated for a year. Now, whenever we have a big enough argument that one of us should leave, it's always me.   He says it's because his mom told him never to leave the house again.

Thanks a fucking lot, mother in law.    How bout you think of your grandkids who have to be hauled across town to my mother's house and ripped from their beds?   Did you ever think of that?  NO!

I go, because it's easier.  It's easier than trying to make him leave.  He's such an ass when he gets that way, that he won't go willingly.  Instead of making an even bigger ruckus in front of my babies, I've always just packed a bag and talked about the "fun times" we'll have at grandma's.

Tonight I just decided not to do that again.  He's not physical, he won't hurt me or the kids physically.  Emotionally......well, he's hurt me so much in the past that I'm starting to get a pretty thick skin.  As far as the kids go, he's not too bad with them.  He knows when he's getting pretty bad and he'll leave and go into the basement.  That's where he is now, in the basement.

So, for now, we are not talking and we'll just go about our business as separately as possible.    I don't think the kids will be too affected.  They are used to their dad disappearing downstairs to play video games or needing time alone.

Am I fucking up my kids?  When I stop and think about it, I'm appalled that this is "normal" for my kids.  My only hope is to get through school, safe up money and put us in a better place.  One way or the other

Another round of PTSD starts up

     I should have seen this coming.  Things had been going so well, however, between the Hubs and I, that I got lulled into a false sense of security.  Ever since March, when I was hospitalized for that darn gall bladder, things had been pretty good between him and I.  We have had minimal fights, and for the most part, I was finally starting to enjoy marital life.

    That's the funny thing about PTSD.  You never really know when it's going to hit.  Here we were, swimming along happily when BAM......PTSD strikes again.   It started a little less than a week ago:  I started noticing the shorter fuse for his temper, the more frequent outbursts of swearing, and the change in his physical appearance.  Hubby has a habit of wearing the same clothes for days.  He will sleep in them and wear them for at least two days in a row.  It's disgusting.  It's bad enough when he does that when it's winter out, but here in the dog days of summer......Gross.   

Along with the lack of changing clothes, I noticed his facial hair going to crap.  He tries hard to grow a beard and mustache.   Some people look great in a beard and a 'stache.   He does not.  The crappy thing is, that he KNOWS he looks bad in one.   It'd be different if it was the sexy 5'oclock shadow thing going on, or a few days of scruff.  Nope.  Instead, he grows it out so its scraggly and his mustache has that nasty part down the middle that some men get that looks creepy.  To compound the look, his beard grows in gray.  Not all the way around, either.  It has hairs growing in gray just on his chin.   

Like I said, he knows he looks like crap with a beard and mustache.  He's said it to me before.  I have come to determine that the facial hair starts growing when he is feeling depressed.  I try, in a nice way, to motivate him to shave.  I tell him how much younger he looks without it (he does!) and how it's not his best look and how often by having a better outwards appearance, you can make yourself feel better internally.  

Last night he said he was going to trim it up and I thought "Hallelujah!"   This afternoon we were outside and I commented about how I thought he was going to trim it up.  "I did" was the reply.  What????   His idea of trimming is to get some of the neck hair off.  That's it.  He still has wild long hairs growing in every which way, still has the creepy mustache line, and still has the gray hairs coming in.  I told him I didnt like it and he told me something along the lines of "when I start caring, I'll let you know".

That hurt.  I don't know why......He's told me before that he doesn't care what I think.  When he's like this, in the middle of a PTSD cycle, it's true.  I know that when he's feeling better, he does care.  But right now, he doesn't.  It hurt because I had been in a state of denial that another cycle of PTSD was upon us.  Life had been so nice for the last 4 months or so.  I forgot how much it can suck.  

I have to start putting on my thick skin again.  I've let myself go soft the last few months.  Being soft lets the hurt in......I have cried more in the last week than I have in months.  Stupid stuff really.  Comments that shouldn't cut me, do.  The rude, sarcastic comments are back and I have to get used to them again.....I have to remember that although his words and actions hurt, he doesn't really want to hurt me.    I have to remember that his crappy, mean attitude is just an outward reflection of his shit mood internally.

It doesn't help though.  It still hurts.  But, I have to buck up.......I can't spend my days crying or tip toeing around him.  I'm too busy for that.     Here's hoping that this latest flare up doesn't last long.

Stepped in something this morning.....ew!

Today has not been a good morning, to say the least.  I woke up 10 minutes late and was running around trying to get our daughter ready for school.  I was in the kitchen making her toast and realized my foot was wet.  Looking down I realized I had stepped in cat crap.  Oh yuck!  not just any cat poop, but diarrhea.  Double yuck.    I looked around and saw puddles in the kitchen and then found a wet spot in the living room also on the carpet.  Evidently my older cat, Polly, has the runs as well as the new kitten.  Awesome.

I hurried up and picked her up and put her in the bathroom with the other one.  She was leaking poo as I walked with her.   I am guessing she must have gotten it from the kitten.  Great.  My husband started complaining about the costs of the cats (which really, our first cat has only cost us food and one shot a year....but this is going to be two vet visits in a week).  I called the vet, and can't get her in til after work.  I wish Hubs would have taken her this morning but there's no way he's dealing with the cat.  In the meantime, they're both locked up in the bathroom sharing germs.

This was all before 8am.  After getting our munchkin off to school, the arguing started.  How we have no money, how he wants to file bankruptcy.  I didn't have anything to say.  I was upset because I used to be good at handling money situations but the toll of dealing with him has made me sloppy.  I didnt want to talk.  Sometimes, when you're that upset, you just don't want to talk about it.  He doesn't get that.  "Why are you mad at me?  Why won't you talk to me?"  

"I have nothing to say"  (because I didn't).


Well after following me around asking me what was wrong we talked.  Anything I say to him he takes personally so that's why I don't talk to him.  Now he's laying in our bed with the covers pulled over him sulking.  God forbid I cry or complain because then all of a sudden "You're just feeling sorry for yourself"

Well, you know what?  Maybe I am!  Why can't I feel sorry for myself?  My life has not gone how I wanted it to at all.  Most of the time I keep a stiff upper lip and carry on but dammit....Life sucks sometimes.  And all I want to do is be able to vent.  Can't complain to him though or he takes it as a personal attack.  I tried talking to my mom on the phone but she goes all Pollyanna on me which annoys the shit out of me.  I don't want to hear how "this too shall pass" or any other stupid sayings.  When I call to complain, I just want to get it all out there, have her say, "i'm sorry, that does suck".  Acknowledge that my life is hard sometimes!!  This is why I don't call my mother often.  She sticks in little sayings and paints it as a fleeting moment and then usually, then she goes into something similar she's going through.  This morning I got to hear about how her dog has a scratched cornea and needs to go to the vet and how "I don't have money either, but animals love you unconditionally and we need to take care of them..."  BARF!

Ok, now I need to go to work.  Let's hope this day turns around!!

Done.

It's amazing to me how quickly things can turn ugly and how effortlessly he can point the blame at me.

Earlier I blogged about new siding and the new roof and windows.   Hubs and I decided TOGETHER that this needed to be done and we discussed PRIOR to signing a contract how we would pay for it.  Today the window dudes came and installed three new windows and a new sliding glass door.  I was at work for most of it, but came home as they were finishing up.  Hubs was laying in the bedroom uninvolved in the process.  I heard the foreman come and so I went and told Hubs to come out and he said he had already talked to him.   Okie dokie.

Well, I went out to say bye and the foreman told me that the guys hadn't rehung our blinds because they had been installed incorrectly before.  I wasn't suprised, the people who owned the home before us must have been on something when they did some of the stuff to this house.   He left and Hubs wandered out.  I told him about the blinds and he started swearing and telling me it was my fault because I didn't tell them to hang them up.  Never mind the fact that I told him to come out and he didn't.  It's amazing how I turn into the verbal whipping boy.

Hubs got pissy and quit talking.  I went to my Bible Study (my one sliver of peace in my evening) and came home around 9pm.  I walked in and saw that nothing had been put away and so I cleaned up the kitchen and went to take a bath.  Right before I'm getting in the tub he comes to the doorway and asks "what's your problem".

I hate that.  What's my problem?  Whats YOUR problem?  A few minutes ago he came in and told me i was being bitchy.  I got that he is now stressed about paying for all this.  He then got mad because I"m not stressed.  I just don't get it.  We talked about it, he assured me all was good, all will be good, all is good.  I didn't have much to say.  I knew whatever I would say he'd twist it around in his head so I didn't even bother.

Then he told me not to talk to him tomorrow.  So, as he was walking out of the bedroom I told him happy birthday because tomorrow is his birthday.  He must have thought i was being smart because he told me Fuck you.

If I'm honest with myself.....the love is gone.  I know it, he knows it.  It sucks so badly to be in a marriage where you feel degraded all the time.  Why don't I leave?  Scared I guess.  98% of the time our marriage is miserable.  Maybe I hold out for that 2%.  I don't know.  I guess I'm also scared about how I would provide for my kids as a single mom.  I'd figure it out, but we wouldn't be able to keep the house, and I'd be financially ruined.  My daughter does not adjust to change well at all, so moving her again would be devestating for her.  She needs consistency.

So what do I do?  I guess.....I need to just focus on me and the kids.  I can't change him.  I can't make him happy, he can't make me happy so I'll focus on making myself happy and finding peace within myself.  

I'm going to go cry now.

A puke-filled car ride home

Last night involved good music, beer, throw-up, and a nasty smelling car ride home.

The day started out full of promise.  Hubs scored tickets to go backstage to be VIP with one of his favorite bands that was playing at a festival in Chicago.  We dropped the kiddos off with my mom and dad and hit the road.

We had gotten a bit of a late start and neither of us had eaten anything.  Hubs informed me that we didn't have time to stop anywhere, not even a drive through.  I must have looked exceptionally hungry and ill from the hunger pains because he finally conceded and drove through a McDonalds.  We still made it on time, and the festival had food so I wasn't too worried about it.  Plus, the fest had food, so I wasn't too worried about this.  I'll return to this point in a bit....

Anyway, the backstage area was really just the different bands and their vans/trucks with a beverage tent (a.k.a - The beer tent) and security milling around.  We met the band and had a photo op with them.  Then they pointed us in the direction of their own tent, which had the hard liquor.  Neither of us had some of their stock, but Hubs was all about the free beer.  I stuck with water because I kind of had a feeling of what was coming.

The band's set was great!  After they were done I wanted to go get some food because all I'd had to eat was that darn bag of fries and a coke.  Hubs, however, was more into talking to the band.  Okay, I got it....but I was hungry!  I eventually wandered back to the stage area to listen to the bands that were next.  By the time I went back to Hubs, he was three sheets to the wind.

Oh.  Shit.

I do not do Chicago traffic.  I get nervous just driving down 94 or 294 but I DO NOT drive actually on Chicago city streets.  I realized that my big no-no was about to happen when I saw my husband holding himself up by the tent pole.  He was slurring his words and swaying a little.  It was time to go!  Tearing him away from the band members, who he loves, was difficult, but I finally looked at him and told him I was leaving.

Luckily we were right by the interstate and got on easily.  Down the road, Hubs started asking if I wanted to stop at Joe's Crab Shack for dinner.  Before we got there, however, he threw up in the car.  Yeah, nasty.  He managed to throw up mostly in a cup, but some of it went on his leg.  Even more disgusting, he set the cup into the cup holder so I was driving down the road with a cup of puke next to me.   DAMMIT.

We did not stop for food, and I didn't drive through either.  I just wanted to get home.  I did stop and have him throw out the cup o' puke, but my hunger, which had been growing all day, was gone. (Gee, I wonder why???)

I got home, dumped Hubs off, grabbed my car that did not smell like puke, and went to get my kids.  I got them home, in bed, and by then I was too exhausted to get food.    So, the nice day turned ended kind of crappy.

 This morning Hubs was pretty apologetic.  The thing is, it wasn't one specific thing that made me mad.  I got that he'd drink, I got that he'd be a little starry-eyed at the band members.  But he went over, way over, on the drinking.   He acted like some stupid kid who didn't know how to handle his alcohol.  I told him this morning that out of all the people there, he filled his cup up the most.  He agreed.  He acted like a fool, and that's the part I hated the most.  

As we were leaving one of the band members told me that I was a saint.  Damn, I hate when people tell me that.  His therapist has told me I'm a saint, our pastor has told me I'm such a saint, friends, family....and now some dude at an outdoor concert who met us 2 hours earlier was telling me this?  He just can't do anything in moderation, and it drives me crazy.  Most people tell me I'm a saint because they know his issues....his PTSD issues.  This guy meant it because Hubs was really far gone and I hadn't had a drop of beer because I knew I'd have to drive him home and because I had to somehow get him to the car.  Either way, it sucks.  I don't want to have to be a saint.

  I've really got to stop blogging at 1:30 in the morning.  I don't know why I'm up this late.  It's like I get my 2nd (3rd, 4th, 5th?) wind and off I go.  Maybe because it's the only time of the day that I know I am not going to be interrupted by "mom, mom, mom....MOM!".  

  Last night I couldn't sleep.  I was up until about 4am and my children cheerfully got up at the ungodly hour of 8am.  I know that's not that late, but for me, it was awful.  Hubs, of course, was not in bed.  I told munchkin to go get her dad and tell him to feed her.  She tried, but he was so out of it that she came back up the stairs without him.  I managed to get her a bowl of cereal and her medicine before half sleeping back to the bed.  My head hit the pillow and about two seconds later the baby woke up.

Seriously?

It was a bad morning.  Hubs did come upstairs but he went right to bed.  I was frazzled and I snapped at him.  He had this wounded look on his face and I felt bad, but I just wanted to cry because I was so tired and stressed and it was only 9am.  I again brought up a divorce.  I meant it when I said it.  I finally got 10 minutes to myself and I cried in the shower.  I don't know what the heck was up with me.  I think, this past week has been stressful and my husband finally hit the nail on the head when he asked me if I was overwhelmed.

That's it!  I am just so overwhelmed with everything.  We had a talk, again.  I told him that I never get to sleep in.  It was more than that though.....I feel like the weight of our family rests on me.  He laughed and said it was funny because he felt the same, but for different reasons.  He feels it financially, because he brings in the bacon.  I feel it more emotionally and physically and mentally.  For example, when the kids get up, he knows that I'll have to get up and take care of them because I'm not going to let them just cry and scream and be neglected.  I can ask for his help, but if he falls back asleep, it's not that big of a deal because I'll be there to make sure everything gets taken care of.    It's not just the kids;  I do the laundry, i clean up, I do most of the cooking.  I make sure this household runs.  It may not run the smoothest, but I make sure it keeps on chugging along.  

There is no partner for me.  I can't really count on him, and it makes me sad.  He's a good guy, he really is, but I feel like,  I know that everything rests on me.  It's a big stress that rests on my shoulders and I think most of the time he doesn't realize how much I worry and stress over things.  

He told me that if I wanted a divorce, he would give me one.  "It's cheaper to keep her", I told him, which is a line from a song he threw at me the other day.  In all seriousness though, I can't divorce him. He is sick.  I wouldn't leave him if he had cancer, or if his leg had been blown off.  I made up my mind today, at that very second, that divorce is simply NOT AN OPTION.  The only way it would be, is if he got abusive to the kids or to me.  Since he's never been abusive (some verbal putdowns, yes, and a push a long time ago....but nothing like abuse and never to the kids) then I'm in for the long haul.  Since Divorce is not an option anymore, and never really was, come to think of it.....Then my whole mind frame has got to change.  Not, I wish this would get better.  Boo Hoo to me, woe is me.  Instead, it's more like Ok, what things can I do to change the outcome.  What steps am I going to take to protect me and my feelings when he gets like that.  What am I going to do to help him understand my point of view in a calm, meaningful manner?

Hopefully I come up with some great answers to these questions.  It's not going to be easy, but we've managed this long and I'm not giving up.  PTSD is not going to ruin us!!

This could be it?

The weekend had started off nicely.  Hubs came home Friday and he had even got us presents from the PX.  I asked him what was the occasion and it was a "just because".  He got some scented lotion for our daughter (she loves smelly lotiony stuff) and for me a gift set of Philosophy's Amazing Grace.

He got our daughter to play soccer that night in her game and it was a nice night in all.  In fact, it was a nice weekend.....Until Saturday night when he started in again on how he feels trapped here in Wisconsin.  How he might not come home right away after he gets done with his treatment.  What the hell am I supposed to think when he says that crap?  He's told me this so many times, finally I just told him look, if you're not happy then this isn't the life for you.

Sunday morning he refused to get up to go watch our daughter sing in church.  That was the final straw.  Seriously?  She doesn't do it very often.  Church starts at 10:45.....it's not like you have to get up early or anything.  I told him when I got back he better be gone.  And, he was.

He sent me texts about how he didnt know what he'd done but he was sorry and he was going to quit smoking, and be a family man.  I loved that he was trying, but I knew that he was just telling me what I wanted to hear.  In the end, that wasn't going to help us.  I'm tired of him feeling "trapped".  I asked him what he meant by that, and he said it was mainly the house ownership.  I get that, that owning a house can be scary.  And we bought a "vintage" house, so it's got some updating to do.  Looking back, we rushed into buying this house because i was super pregnant and we wanted to get settled.  I love my neighborhood, but maybe this house wasnt the right one.  Regardless, we're here now and we've got to make it work!

Anyway, I just kept telling him to think long and hard about what he wants.  I'm not moving anytime soon.  I want my kids to get some roots and feel settled, I want to be settled.  If he can't handle the American Dream of house ownership and raising a family, then I don't want him to do it.    I genuinely want him to be happy, and more so....I want me to be happy and our kids to be happy and well-adjusted.  We can't be happy if he's always bellowing and griping about how he hates it here with us.  I tried to make that point to Hubs, but instead he told me "I know where this is going, I'll leave"

Sigh.  I don't know what to say that I haven't said already.  I just don't know anymore.  I love him and always will but I want all of us to be happy.  I'm happy here, why can't he be?

Separate beds, separate lives?

I hate that we sleep in separate beds.  It's been this way since we got back together after our separation, so.....almost 2 years now?  2 years of sleeping by myself, on my side of a king size bed.  Sometimes I wonder why I don't spread out.  Why I don't sleep at a diagonal to take up all the space I can since he's not there.

Because that's his spot.  Even after all this time apart, I never take over the whole bed.  I guess maybe subconsciously, I'm hoping every night he'll come to bed.....our bed.  But, in reality, he hardly ever does.  Occasionally if I make him feel bad enough or pout enough he'll come for a night or two.  But really, why should I be practically begging him to sleep next to me?  Shouldn't he WANT to sleep by me.

He has his excuses reasons.  He says he has trouble going to sleep at night so he watches TV in the living room and then falls asleep.  He also says he is afraid that during a nightmare, he'll wake up and somehow hurt me or maybe kill me in my sleep.

Whatever.

First of all, we used to have a TV in our bedroom and he still never came to bed.  Second, he's never hurt me or acted out while I was sleeping.  It's just excuses he uses to push me further away.  In fact, the other night we had an argument and he said something about leading separate lives.  Truth of the matter is, we are pretty much doing that already.  He sleeps by himself, eats by himself 80% of the time, doesn't go out with us to do stuff unless I plead.  He doesn't help with homework with A or help at all with C unless I put the baby in his arms and say "here".

I'm tired of it all.  I'll never divorce him unless he put the kids in danger (which he never has), but I get the feeling he'd be much, much happier if he could just go do his own thing and never deal with us again.  In fact, he's pretty much said that all he wants is to be left alone.

So what do I do?  Keep trying in the hopes that someday he'll reach out and give me some affection?  That maybe one day more than a passing glimmer of the old Hubs will come through?  I miss having a husband, a best friend.  I miss having someone ask me how it's going, or to give me a hug or rub my shoulders when I'm stressed.  I may be married, but I don't have a husband.  I have a roommate.