(Damn....my cassette of this album broke yesterday. I've had it since the mid-80's. YouTube is giving me my Police fix until I can buy a CD.)
Okay...
I tried to have the relationship talk again yesterday.
I'm failing miserably.
He wants me to stay here to help him with the kids. I don't know if I can do that.
Let me explain...
Because the economy is so bad, many couples are choosing what they call a non-divorce.
These people live separate lives but stay married for the sake of the kids and to keep assets and health insurance. Since we really have no assets except the house and he isn't covering me on any health insurance, I find myself staying for the kids.
The problem, though, is that he is taking liberties with my time. I have to be on-call twenty-four hours a day due to his ever-changing schedule and that makes it hard for me to commit to a job.
The other problem is that I'm a woman and....
well....
things haven't happened.
Things aren't happening.
Things are not going to happen for a very, very long time....
if ever.
So, I find myself sharing a house with a man I consider my friend. Doing so puts me in the position of ignoring my needs for fear of hurting his feelings.
He says he wants to fix things.....eventually.
I'm going bonkers as I have no outlet for my energy.
I'm trying to re-establish my business. He is constantly changing his hours and expectations of me. I have access to little money. I am quickly realiing that I need to find an office within access of the bus but outside of city limits due to audit threats from his former boss (the gossipy, lying, and number fudging head of the tax audit department).
The phones are on the fritz.
The lock on one of the doors is broken.
The front door looks like someone tried to break in; the door jam has become detached from the wall.
His car is dead, so he is taking mine. I am without transportation after 2:00 PM until about 9:00 AM.
This puts me in the position of having to do things the long and hard way, wait until he is home to make appointments, and find alternative means of communicating with people. I really don't have time to spare.
I'm referring potential clients to my competition until I am sure that I can cope with what is going on.
There are days when I wonder why I'm attracting so much garbage into my life.
I'm being asked to do volunteer graphic design for a politician that craps on everything I do. In fact, I'll spent hours on a project (sometimes years) and she'll just take it from me. It happened when I tried to design a yard sign. She did it with a website. She did it with a campaign for city council.
In fact, when she asked for my help, she made it a point to say it was something that I couldn't "mess anything up".
Geez.....she can do it herself.
For an artist, perpetually unhappy people are tough to work for. When you know someone is going to b!tch about anything you do, you find yourself unmotivated to spend three hours with Photoshop to create something decent. You just want to go to Morguefile and get a .jpg because nothing you do will be good enough.
The lady that needs my help has an obnoxious husband who likes to call me and chew me out over trivial matters. She takes offense at just about everything I say and he'll go on the attack, via gossip, emails or even the telephone.
Let me tell you, it takes a ton of self-control NOT to suggest to him that he's impotent. Why would anyone harass a hypnotist on the phone? That's a stupid thing to do.
I decided not to tell him the limp noodle hypnotic story because...well....at least he's getting something. There is no other reason for a couple to make up reasons to fight with someone.
He's picking fights with me in order to show her he's protecting her....in other words, he's doing it to get laid.
The last phone call was completely insidious. He told me that I didn't represent the PAC I'm involved in. He told me that I didn't represent the Libertarian party. I tried to confront him over a deal he made with a Republican to have me run for office to help the Republican win. Apparently, the Republican made great strides to help with wife network politically. When I tried to keep the deal he and his wife made in order to help the Republican, I got my @ss chewed.
Now, this Libertarian mentioned the deal in a room full of Republicans, who were pressuring me to keep my promise to help their party member win. It killed me to be told to go back on his word and see the dissappointment in people I highly respect. This guy is now on the party board, so he said he cannot afford to tell other people what actually happened or it will ruin his reputation. I felt so set up by him!!! Luckily, I am the queen of embedded hypnotic commands and subliminal imagery, so I found other ways of helping a Republican win.
I made sure everyone saw that I stood behind him. I name dropped and mentioned that I agreed with him. I said he'd be good for the city.
I did mention my frustration with a friend who is a Republican and he's trying to get me into their fold. After getting yelled at so much and dicked around, I'm thinking of quitting the Libertarian Party. I don't know if this guy is a psychopath or just a narcissist but he alone is enough to ruin an otherwise good time. They let him get involved in everything; so there is no escaping his obnoxiousness.
I can get more done if I hang out with the guys who have the money. The truth is, they will never get anything done in the face of lies, deceit, and untreated psychopathology.
I didn't realize how angry I was until I spent five hours trying to design a convention logo on GIMP. I must have made three versions before realizing that there was nothing I could create that wouldn't bring criticism and charges of being passive aggressive from this person and her husband.
I asked to meet with her to find out what she wanted. She refused citing a lack of daycare. I told her I'd pay my daughter to babysit and she declined. I can't work with her...
so I quit.
I hate quitting...but there are times when you can't set yourself up to be someone's punching bag.
The homemaking thing is becoming tedious, too.
I'm trying to cook everything from stratch to help him my ex and the eldest daughter to lose weight.
The house is gross from the years I took away from homemaking and he was home, so I'm trying to clean everything up, repaint, repair and get rid of whatever is here that is making me sick. There is something here that is making it hard for me to breathe. I don't know what it is. I'm thinking it must be mold.
And, the school nurse has been really sweet about helping my daughter and the neighbor kids when they get filthy at school. So, I made it my mission to collect clothing for her to share with the children who need them. That's probably the one thing I do that doesn't drive me bonkers.
I don't get a lot of sleep. I've started taking sleeping pills to avoid the alcohol but sometimes I forget and end up taking both. I sleep a little too well then.
Today....I had to have the talk about my ex taking liberties with my time and possessions while letting his responsibilities fall to the wayside. He wants me to continue doing everything I am doing.
So, we talked about his stuff and her stuff.
We both brought things into the marriage. He brought his football card collection (that takes up most of my walk-in closet). I brought in my musical instruments.
That is normal. We get to keep what we brought here.
He brought in more debt than I but I amassed more student loan debt during the course of the marriage. I was stupid to use my inheritance to pay off his credit cards. My student loans are mine and he has no right to claim any money I borrow for school to pay household or legal expenses (yet...that happens).
I am responsible for those loans, they considered my stuff.
And then we have baggage, lots and lots of baggage.
I explained....
When I need to talk to him about lawn maintenance and he screams at me that he won't help because his mother made him mow the lawn when he was ten years of age....that's his stuff.
It has nothing to do with me.
When I need to coordinate taking classes so that I can earn a decent living and he refuses because his family doesn't want me educated....well....that's his stuff.
It is really limiting my ability to do right by my family.
When I am in the hospital and want pain relief and he yells and screams that all women are worthless pieces of crap because that's what his mother and sister are.... that's his stuff, too.
I'm tired of dealing with his stuff!!
We don't communicate because he says women are stupid (just like mom and sis) and he won't listen to me. My life is suffering. I am missing out on having a relationship because of his stuff.
He didn't get it.
So, I finally got frustrated and put it together for him....
I can't have the communication, intimacy, and respect in this relationship because of his history and his stuff.
He looked confused.
Then I asked him if he was ever been denied sex because I was sexually assaulted as a teen.
He said no.
That's because I had a ton of therapy to work through my stuff before allowing myself to get married. I need him to do the same.
I'm not sure he gets it.
I want him to be responsible for his stuff. I will be responsible for mine.
When his stuff interferes with my life, we have a problem. When his responsibilities encroach upon my ability to meet my commitments, we won't be able to live together, even as roommates.
I wonder if that would make a good book....His stuff/Her stuff.
It works with everyone, even on a macro level.
Libertarians helping Republicans win...that's the party's stuff.
People making deals with the competition and then refusing to tell the truth about it...well...that's a political idiot's stuff.
Misreading insults into every word, picture, action or deed.....that's the idiots wife's stuff.
My examining my past relationships so I don't desire to date....well, that's my stuff. Seeing how crappy I am helps keep me faithful in the face of....loneliness.
It is an interesting concept...to bad I'm not good about explaining it yet. Maybe if I write about it more.
Oh, and it is dawning on me that it is time for me to get glasses. This screen is hard to see and the numerous typos I miss is disturbing.
Here is the lesson of my life: I guess I can't correct what I refuse to see.
It sucks getting old...but then..that's my stuff.
Love ya,
S.
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