I'll have to decide once and for all: is there enough good here to compensate for the bad?
I just don't know.
Sometimes. Last week I wanted to marry the fucker. Well, maybe the week before that. Last week I just wanted to wear my beautiful ring.
I so hate the volatility of this relationship. I don't want a volatile life. I don't. I don't, I don't, I don't. Fuck.
Saturday, April 06, 2013
Sunday, February 10, 2013
In fairness and on second thought
When he broke down today, I remembered something. I remembered why I'm here. He brings something out of me that no one else ever has. Not to the same extent, anyway.
It's this compassion, this softness that I just don't feel with other people. Or, not that I don't feel it... I just can't let it out the way I do with him. I like that side of me. It's the side I've always tried to stifle, the side my parents feared because they thought it would cause me harm. But I think not letting it out has caused me more pain than showing it ever could.
The trouble is, maybe, that I forget it exists. I get so caught up in the details, in the problems, the fears and stresses. It lies dormant while I concentrate on things that are more important and immediate and it doesn't come out until it is forced out. And I hate it at first. It is only when I give in to it that I remember and accept it.
That's kind of sad.
It's this compassion, this softness that I just don't feel with other people. Or, not that I don't feel it... I just can't let it out the way I do with him. I like that side of me. It's the side I've always tried to stifle, the side my parents feared because they thought it would cause me harm. But I think not letting it out has caused me more pain than showing it ever could.
The trouble is, maybe, that I forget it exists. I get so caught up in the details, in the problems, the fears and stresses. It lies dormant while I concentrate on things that are more important and immediate and it doesn't come out until it is forced out. And I hate it at first. It is only when I give in to it that I remember and accept it.
That's kind of sad.
This bed I made
Well, that went over like wild fire. We had it out today. He lost it. I'm staying. Chances are nothing will change. I'm over the moon. Sarc.
Saturday, February 09, 2013
Live blogging my decent into drunkeness...
Beer # 1
Just got home from work/dropping him off at his work/the liquor store. Things are not going well, to say the least. Why? Ugh.
Sick is what I am, if you want to know the truth. Sick of it all. Sick of feeling like a bitch all the time, sick of coming home to a mess, sick of cleaning up behind him and the little gem, sick of feeling like a second class citizen. Sick of stepping in dried pee and having to wipe the seat every time I want to sit down, sick of having to deep clean before I can kneel down and vomit. Sick of always being the one to take out the garbage and do the dishes and sort the recycling. Sick. Sick to death.
Frustrated, too. Get some teeth, get a driver's licence, do your taxes, get in the game for fuck sake. Why do I have to be the one who takes on all the burden of money and bills? I don't mind paying them but I'm not paying everything from my own pocket.
Do you know what he did? DO YOU KNOW WHAT HE DID??? After having a week off last week because they closed to do inventory, he was short paid $300. We are still behind on the electric bill from before Christmas. (Please note: it's February.) So, I get it, it's not his fault. It's not. He has no control over his warehouse shutting down. But, after watching me stress-cry all day long (for more reasons than that, of course), he called in sick. HE CALLED IN SICK! He doesn't get paid for sick days. WHAT?
Of course, doing everything myself means I can buy booze and put the empties into the recycling and he'll never know because he doesn't even walk by them. Fucker.
Beer # 2
Do I seem bitter to you?
Yesterday I asked him if it bothers him to live with a bitch all the time. Because I am. And it's driving me crazy! He didn't answer. But today he texted this, "bitch is just the costume you wear to hide behind. Because you feel scared. I love the real you. The kind and gentle person. I love the dreamer and believer. So I put up with the bitch. But when you seem to fall more on the side of bitch and start to like it I am fighting alone. I can fight alone... alone. So I'm tired. Instead of getting angry, I wonder if I could do best for you by letting you go."
What bullshit. There is nothing in me kind and gentle anymore. I have eaten her into oblivion.
"I want to kill myself" goes through my mind far more often than it should. I don't but I'm not happy.
Stacey said I sound like an abused wife. I'm not but I feel far too close to that for my liking.
Wine # 1
I want it all, don't I? I want to go and I want to stay. I want the best of both worlds. Wouldn't it be wonderful if he was always there when I needed him but I didn't have to put up with his shit? Oh, so wonderful.
Do you know that we first got together (online, of course) in 2010. I moved here in 2011. That means we have lived together for 18 months. And he has never met a single person that I know. Intentionally. I don't want him to. I don't. That is so wrong. Fucker doesn't have any teeth.
I can do better than this, can't I? I can do so much better than the life I'm living right now. And I know that. Does that mean I'm ready to go? If he is giving me the opportunity to get out of this, I swear to a god I don't believe in - I'm afraid to not take it.
I miss being anal and perfect. I miss having everything where I want it until I want it somewhere else. I miss being the leader and the master of my own life. How did I let that go? Is that what a relationship is? Am I really unable to live with someone else? Should I go?
Can't we just have this figured out already, please?
It's tearing me apart. For real.
Wine # 2
My brain is going fuzzy. Is this helping at all?
Time to watch a movie.
I think I want to kill myself.
If he starts being all gross and whimpy, I'm gonna kill him.
Yeah, I need to go now.
Wine # 3
Still here. Laughing and hickuping to How I Met Your Mother.
*hicup*
I've havlel the hickemups. *hic*
Ima go to bed nows. Half a glass and another half a glass left and I think I'm done. In the living room, at least. Gots to get up at 6:30 A. M. to go pick up my wonderful boyfriend from work, after all. I'm considering a work to rule strike so he'll see how much I actually do around here.
Won't work.
What the fuck am I doing with myself?
Wine # 4
I want to leave so bad. I want to run.
I want it to be a year from now and I'm already living in Vancouver and my life is already back in order. I want to never hear from him again so I can pretend and assume that they are better without me. I want to run. I want to be careless and inconsiderate and I want to run.
Fast forward one year from now, please.
Would I regret it?
Just got home from work/dropping him off at his work/the liquor store. Things are not going well, to say the least. Why? Ugh.
Sick is what I am, if you want to know the truth. Sick of it all. Sick of feeling like a bitch all the time, sick of coming home to a mess, sick of cleaning up behind him and the little gem, sick of feeling like a second class citizen. Sick of stepping in dried pee and having to wipe the seat every time I want to sit down, sick of having to deep clean before I can kneel down and vomit. Sick of always being the one to take out the garbage and do the dishes and sort the recycling. Sick. Sick to death.
Frustrated, too. Get some teeth, get a driver's licence, do your taxes, get in the game for fuck sake. Why do I have to be the one who takes on all the burden of money and bills? I don't mind paying them but I'm not paying everything from my own pocket.
Do you know what he did? DO YOU KNOW WHAT HE DID??? After having a week off last week because they closed to do inventory, he was short paid $300. We are still behind on the electric bill from before Christmas. (Please note: it's February.) So, I get it, it's not his fault. It's not. He has no control over his warehouse shutting down. But, after watching me stress-cry all day long (for more reasons than that, of course), he called in sick. HE CALLED IN SICK! He doesn't get paid for sick days. WHAT?
Of course, doing everything myself means I can buy booze and put the empties into the recycling and he'll never know because he doesn't even walk by them. Fucker.
Beer # 2
Do I seem bitter to you?
Yesterday I asked him if it bothers him to live with a bitch all the time. Because I am. And it's driving me crazy! He didn't answer. But today he texted this, "bitch is just the costume you wear to hide behind. Because you feel scared. I love the real you. The kind and gentle person. I love the dreamer and believer. So I put up with the bitch. But when you seem to fall more on the side of bitch and start to like it I am fighting alone. I can fight alone... alone. So I'm tired. Instead of getting angry, I wonder if I could do best for you by letting you go."
What bullshit. There is nothing in me kind and gentle anymore. I have eaten her into oblivion.
"I want to kill myself" goes through my mind far more often than it should. I don't but I'm not happy.
Stacey said I sound like an abused wife. I'm not but I feel far too close to that for my liking.
Wine # 1
I want it all, don't I? I want to go and I want to stay. I want the best of both worlds. Wouldn't it be wonderful if he was always there when I needed him but I didn't have to put up with his shit? Oh, so wonderful.
Do you know that we first got together (online, of course) in 2010. I moved here in 2011. That means we have lived together for 18 months. And he has never met a single person that I know. Intentionally. I don't want him to. I don't. That is so wrong. Fucker doesn't have any teeth.
I can do better than this, can't I? I can do so much better than the life I'm living right now. And I know that. Does that mean I'm ready to go? If he is giving me the opportunity to get out of this, I swear to a god I don't believe in - I'm afraid to not take it.
I miss being anal and perfect. I miss having everything where I want it until I want it somewhere else. I miss being the leader and the master of my own life. How did I let that go? Is that what a relationship is? Am I really unable to live with someone else? Should I go?
Can't we just have this figured out already, please?
It's tearing me apart. For real.
Wine # 2
My brain is going fuzzy. Is this helping at all?
Time to watch a movie.
I think I want to kill myself.
If he starts being all gross and whimpy, I'm gonna kill him.
Yeah, I need to go now.
Wine # 3
Still here. Laughing and hickuping to How I Met Your Mother.
*hicup*
I've havlel the hickemups. *hic*
Ima go to bed nows. Half a glass and another half a glass left and I think I'm done. In the living room, at least. Gots to get up at 6:30 A. M. to go pick up my wonderful boyfriend from work, after all. I'm considering a work to rule strike so he'll see how much I actually do around here.
Won't work.
What the fuck am I doing with myself?
Wine # 4
I want to leave so bad. I want to run.
I want it to be a year from now and I'm already living in Vancouver and my life is already back in order. I want to never hear from him again so I can pretend and assume that they are better without me. I want to run. I want to be careless and inconsiderate and I want to run.
Fast forward one year from now, please.
Would I regret it?
Sunday, January 27, 2013
Time
I hope by now I've come to terms with the fact that my silly little self-damaging acts of rebellion are hurting no one but me. Actually, if you want to get down to it, they are playing right into his hands. I think he feels that if I'm grossly fat I will be less attractive to other men so there will be less of a possibility that I will screw around on him. (It doesn't make him any less suspicious or confident but there it is.)
So it's time to get my act together and get my ass in gear. I don't want it anymore, anyway. I don't want to spend the money, I don't want to spend the calories. I don't want to look this way and I don't want to feel this way. It's time to make some changes.
They won't be met with any kind of positive reaction. He's already feeling it and fighting it. But I have to do this. I have to push back because I have to know if I'm wasting my time here.
I'll be 42 this year. I don't have any more time to waste.
So it's time to get my act together and get my ass in gear. I don't want it anymore, anyway. I don't want to spend the money, I don't want to spend the calories. I don't want to look this way and I don't want to feel this way. It's time to make some changes.
They won't be met with any kind of positive reaction. He's already feeling it and fighting it. But I have to do this. I have to push back because I have to know if I'm wasting my time here.
I'll be 42 this year. I don't have any more time to waste.
Pushing luck
Last night I got pretty drunk and told Stacey a lot of secrets that I shouldn't have. It's the first time I've told anyone about the bruise and the grabbing and the chaos that is our lives sometimes. And today I'm thinking: what if we stay together? Now that shit is out there and it can't be taken back.
But as I'm thinking this, I know if I was sitting on her side of the computer instead of mine I would be horrified. The abused wife always defends her man, it was just this one time, it wasn't so bad. But I'm not abused! He's lost it a few times and pushed things beyond reason but it's not like I'm living in fear or something. Even when he grabbed me around the throat, I didn't fear him. I mean, after he calmed down I didn't fear him. As it was happening I didn't know how far it was going to go.
I told her I'm going to wait and see how it plays out, and I am. It could go either way at this point. I don't think it will but it is possible. I must be out of my mind for letting it go this far. I knew this, I knew it the first time I met him. That's why I broke up with him before I went home. I didn't follow my instincts and here I am. But instincts aren't cut and dried. It's not like the only instinct I had was to stay away from him because my instincts pushed me toward him, too. Right now my instincts are telling me to leave, but they are also telling me to stay. So which instinct are you supposed to listen to?
That's why I need to let it play out. I need to start fighting for my own wants and needs instead of letting them slide away while his needs become the priority. I need to start working on myself and let the rest of the chips fall where they may.
Can I do that? Good question.
But as I'm thinking this, I know if I was sitting on her side of the computer instead of mine I would be horrified. The abused wife always defends her man, it was just this one time, it wasn't so bad. But I'm not abused! He's lost it a few times and pushed things beyond reason but it's not like I'm living in fear or something. Even when he grabbed me around the throat, I didn't fear him. I mean, after he calmed down I didn't fear him. As it was happening I didn't know how far it was going to go.
I told her I'm going to wait and see how it plays out, and I am. It could go either way at this point. I don't think it will but it is possible. I must be out of my mind for letting it go this far. I knew this, I knew it the first time I met him. That's why I broke up with him before I went home. I didn't follow my instincts and here I am. But instincts aren't cut and dried. It's not like the only instinct I had was to stay away from him because my instincts pushed me toward him, too. Right now my instincts are telling me to leave, but they are also telling me to stay. So which instinct are you supposed to listen to?
That's why I need to let it play out. I need to start fighting for my own wants and needs instead of letting them slide away while his needs become the priority. I need to start working on myself and let the rest of the chips fall where they may.
Can I do that? Good question.
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