I saw a meme instructing that very thing. I don’t think i want to.
As you can see, I’ve been robbed of every writing opportunity this week. Yet again I had to work Saturday. Who doesn’t want to work a 6th day in a row? So I was there 9:30-3, then other Saturday stuff got in the way. My husband has a conniption fit if I work on this in his presence. I think I mentioned (maybe) that at first I’d said I’d let him read these. Then, as I realized I didn’t want to be worried about censoring myself for him, I told him I’d changed my mind. He’d said “Uh…huh…” in that slow, unsure way he does when he wants to tell you he thinks you’re being unreasonable but doesn’t want to say that out loud. Then like a few days after that uh huh happened, it was the weekend, I’d gone to a friend’s and had like 5 beers, husband went too and DD’ed me home (as always). We’d gotten Taco Bell on the way back, but then as we sit down to eat, instead of eating, he’s scribbling something on a piece of paper. (SIDE NOTE : A piece of paper that will be left out on our coffee table, or on the floor by his nightstand, though nightstand is a generous word, it’s just a set of those 3 plastic drawers, left for me to pick up and preserve and store and keep, because my husband has raging OCD about pieces of paper he might have written something important on. He won’t clean out his disgusting car because mixed in with the empty energy drink cans, sports drink bottles and fast food bags he thinks he’s written something life-shatteringly important on a scrap of paper while stopped at a stop light. I understand OCD isn’t logical, and he is actually diagnosed and has been for a long time, so it’s not like I think it’s fake or didn’t know about it a long time ago, but I still have to live with it). And, in an effort to be fair, this is pretty much how the rest of the situation went:
-He was indignant then furious that I would imply his writing whatever he was writing at that moment was an unwise decision. He took deep offense to my implying his writing was unimportant.
-He chose this moment, when I was 5 beers deep, to bring up that ‘Well, you won’t let me read your WordPress’ (more or less)
-My response was “Yeah, you’ve mentioned.” To imply of course that I was mightily tiring of his mentioning that I’d said one thing then changed my mind about it. Like…it’s MY goddamn WordPress, and my thought and feelings and shit. He’s just making me deeply regret ever mentioning it to him, but even slightly buzzed I’m not going to say that much. That’s the thing, no matter how INSANE he can become over my “emotional abusiveness” when I’m drinking, it was 1000 times worse when he was drunk right along with me.
-But even sober, he then chose, after I said “You’ve mentioned” to slam both palms down on the coffee table (that’s where we eat, we don’t have a kitchen or dining room table, or a dining room for that matter) and stand up and tear away, violently grabbing his food and muttering to himself about how drunk I was, in a way loud enough for me to quite distinctly hear him
-Later I would learn that he felt like I was belittling and insulting his writing (it was a rap lyric, which like OMG FINE I GET IT. Like I have a fucking Masters in Lit, but no I definitely look down on any sort of written creative enterprise. FFS, if there’s like ONE thing that I truly feel is sacred….then it’s like does my husband really know me this little? We’ve been living together for almost 8 years. BUT ANYWAY, I’m to get over all that and not mention it. It’s hard to bring up past arguments because my husband, despite what he says, has a hard time of letting go of hurt. He’d much rather not deal with/process, and hang onto it, and let it all accumulate into this really unhealthy breakdown, and again, when he was drinking it was about 1000 times worse, the mood swings, the emotional abuse, the bringing up of something I’d done 8 months before (try doing that to him, whoo boy is there is a different reaction). But again, if you’ve been paying attention at all, because of my childhood, his behavior in the earlier part (the first 6 years) didn’t seem SO strange, given what I’d been used to. The two actual boyfriends I’d had before meeting my husband weren’t exactly emotional or mentally healthy or mature. They were both really different but they both had REALLY broken father situations. And the same is oddly true of my previous side chick (the one that was causing my husband an undue amount of emotional trauma and stress that he never told me about, but now he’s telling me, he told me last Saturday to be exact, that he thinks he has PTSD from the experience. So there’s that to sort out at some point. I mean on the one hand I did feel incredibly guilty about it, but there had also been times/opportunities for my husband to do the same with someone he was into from his college days, it’d just never happened. But that hadn’t at all been because of me. It was an incredibly complicated situation for a lot of different reasons, to keep it simple, she’d gotten him a job, so making a move meant possibly jeopardizing his employment if she really only had wanted to tease him this whole time (which…given some of the things that she did, I can kind of believe that)). It’s kind of odd….but then it kind of makes sense, damaged people tend to want to be together. But then again I married someone who had like….the perfect, most stable, most geared towards his own happiness sort of childhood, particularly when compared with mine. I was just telling him last night at dinner that I can tell he grew up an only child because he also bogarts the communal items at a restaurant. Last night it was the wasabi at a sushi place but it’s a commonly noted thing in my world. I’m not trying to minimize the struggles he had, because there were some, the ADHD and frequent trips to University hospitals, the meds. His mom once told me you can tell how old he was in pictures because ages 6 and under he’s really alert and hyper looking, but then at 6 they started giving him ADHD meds and “you can tell because he has kind of drugged look in pictures,” she literally said that like any other anecdotal fact about his life. No shame they have over the pharmaceutical influence they decided to inject into their son’s development. Then last Christmas his dad has the nerve to start lecturing me about how there are studies (I guess?) linking smoking marijuana before a certain age and even after, and hindering brain development/growth/sustainability. I didn’t say it, because I didn’t think of it because I was stoned because I pretty much need to be fucked up if I’m around my husband’s family and the version of himself that my husband becomes around them. Sober me isn’t really equipped to handle that. They’re all so goddamn neurotic. It’s too much for me. That’s pretty much the last time I heavily drank GOTTA GO – BE BACK SOON