I’m not doing well. Things have been so incredibly stressful that I’ve lost my ability to sleep for longer than an hour or two at a time. If you’re a Facebook friend, then you’re aware of the frustration I’ve been dealing with regarding the smoke detectors – that problem is still ongoing and it finally came to a head last night when I walked through the house, carrying an aluminum ladder, crying my eyes out and ripping smoke detectors off the ceiling.
This is in addition to all of life’s other little stresses – like dealing with communication issues in my marriage, struggling to find my place and trying to keep a cool and level head when John ‘doesn’t think’ to tell me something (read: lies by omission) or ‘forgets’ to call me (read: I’m not important enough to remember) when he says he will.
I’m having a meltdown and after four really great days this week, I thought we’d found a groove – except, I was wrong and realizing that has been the hardest part, I think, to coming to terms with the fact that the way he treats me sometimes, even though he says it’s unintentional (which, really, doesn’t make it better), makes me feel like I don’t matter to anyone at all…or more importantly, I don’t matter to him.
He’s started to hide things and that may have tipped me over my breaking point.
Things like money, trips out…stuff like that.
If you ask him, he’d tell you he isn’t hiding them, he just ‘doesn’t think’ to tell me.
I tell him everything.
Even about my trips to the grocery store.
I want things to seem normal…I want us to engage and connect. We can’t do that if he’s hiding things. If he won’t invite me into his daily life.
So I’m broken today. I slept a few hours last night, after the smoke detectors were finally in a pile in the living room floor. My eyes are puffy and red from crying all night, all morning and now. I’m hurt, I’m not coping well and we’re not communicating.
We’ve got five more weeks to get through and I just don’t think I can do it. Not if he’s not trying. Not if he’s going to hide things from me.
Not of I can’t trust him – and I trust him less today than I did yesterday.
Image © Natalie Dee
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We sometimes have that problem here as well. G tends to “forget” to tell me things he thinks will upset me/make me angry/create disharmony. He doesn’t get that however upset/angry/disharmonious it would make me, finding out later that he kept it from me (and I always do, because I’m a sneaky bitch like that…) makes me even more angry & things even more disharmonious. In fifteen years, he’s never really *gotten* it. (It is, I believe, an artifact of his upbringing, but that’s just my amateur psychoanalysis.)
I’m sorry you’re dealing with this stuff on top of everything else. I wish I could make it all better… xoxo
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