I was forced into a break by The Migraine that Wouldn’t End and then we were on a small vacation/family trip to see my husband’s family over new year’s. Overall, we had a nice holiday break. The girls got everything they could have dreamed of and we, the adults, were spoiled as well. There was tons of good food and lots of laughter. There’s one cousin that I’m not overly fond of and another cousin’s wife that makes me wonder why they’re together because she always seems so unhappy with him ( in fairness, I have seen them one day a year and only these last two years), but even they are civil, which would be unheard of in my bio family. I look up to hubby’s grandma and how well she raised her children. Hubby’s mom refrained from murdering him even though she really wanted to spend more time with our youngest, who chose to be shy the first two of the three days that we were there. All in all, it was good. Even coming back was, initially, nice. We missed our bed. Hubby missed his felines. I was excited just to be able to unpack and begin putting things away.
Monday afternoon we had our 20-week ultrasound and Baby Boy is doing well. The tech explained more than either of us had ever had explained to us before and printed off a ton of photos. ❤ We came home and hubby did some things that I had had on a “honey do” list for almost two months. Life was good…
And then the video games started up again and in full force. It has become a problem. Almost an addiction…perhaps actually one, in some situations. Last night I pointed out that, over the years, he has played many video games and do any of those past games matter in the least now? No. Not at all. So…why is this current game worth almost a month total of his life? (He has played just this one game more than 500 hours; Steam is kind enough to log it for him.) And, seemingly at least, more important than his daughter and myself…and sooner than later, his son, too? He gets rude and ugly with us when he’s playing – especially if things aren’t going as he’d like or one of us needs something from him while he’s playing. To the point where he was getting so upset about the game yesterday and I did something I rarely do – I said something to him about it. (And it wasn’t even the snarky, “You’re a 31-year-old throwing a tantrum…please stahp!” that I was thinking.) “You know you can leave the room, right?” Nevermind that the office in which he plays also houses a great deal of my things as well as his… “I’d have to leave the entire house to not be able to hear you…” “That’s fine.” Really?? At another point, hours later, our 16-month-old went over to him for something. “For fuck’s sake, Sage…”
He likes to point out that I’m not always a peach to be around either. Okay, fair enough. But I’ve been working 12-18 hour “shifts” for the last 2.5 years running. It’s really, really rare that I get a break from the house and kids. …and when I do, it’s often to run errands so…honestly? That’s not much of a “break.” I did a cookie baking party at a friend’s almost a month ago and felt guilty about it because Sean was at home sick with the kids. I went and had my hair done professionally on Christmas Eve day, but was struggling through my migraine the whole time. Before those two things? I don’t even know. I don’t get to go do anything for myself on a regular basis. Worse yet, I usually don’t want to – I have things here at home that I want to get done and would usually rather be doing than going anywhere, but can’t because I always have our 16-month-old using me as a jungle gym or the 8-year-old asking me nonsense questions literally just for the attention. I can’t sew, crochet, or anything like that while Sage is up because she’s constantly. on. me. By the time she’s in bed, I’m too tired to do anything really “productive.” Thus my projects pile up and up and up… But my husband seems to feel that I shouldn’t be frustrated by that…? And when I am, I’m, apparently, a bad person. I don’t know what to do with that. How does one cease being human?? I feel like the key difference is that he gets to leave the house. He is not dealing with both kids all day, every day and yet…he still can’t deal for a few hours. Also? His games do not yield anything fruitful. They’re just games and he’ll, eventually, move on yo a new one and this one will cease to matter, just like the 43,182 before it.
I’m also frustrated that he doesn’t seem to understand that there is a difference between having a backache from work versus whatever has been going on with my muscles and joints these last several years. (We won’t even go into being tired from pregnancy and not being able to sleep through the night related to hormones and sciatica pain. Or that my sleep cycle is seriously messed up and I don’t know how to fix it – most times when I fall asleep, I go directly into dreaming and that isn’t “normal” and disrupts my sleep too.) My body hurts. Everyday. I feel like I’ve been hit by a Mack truck. It gets worse when it rains, when it gets cold out, when I’m stressed more than usual, and random days that don’t seem to have anything to do with anything else. If I do too much one day, the next day literally feels like I’m running through knee deep wet sand. Every step is a struggle. The same thing happens when I don’t get enough sleep, but tends to also be accompanied by “sleep attacks” – or feeling too tired to function and my body basically forcing me to take a nap. No negotiations, no coffee revivals, no “pushing through it.” It is not the same as his being “tired.” I understand that being tired and having backaches from working sucks. I’m not discounting that. I’m just stating that it is not the same as what I’m going through.
It was hard to watch him express sympathy for a stranger on the internet over her finals a few weeks ago (when she obviously left a lot of things to last minute), but brush me off with statements like, “I can’t remember when the last time you weren’t in pain was.” or “Yeah, I’m tired and my back hurts too.” There’s never an, “I’m sorry you’re having a rough day. How about ordering takeout for dinner tonight?” or “Oh, you’re really hurting today because of the cold? Why don’t you stay curled up under the covers with the heating pad and I’ll go down to the cold basement and get the laundry!” Etc.. Sometimes he will ask if I need him to do anything, but that seems like the rare exception to the rule of, “Oh, well! Sucks to be you! I need to go to work now and then I’m going to come home, shower (without a baby opening the door every 5 seconds), and dick off on the computer for several hours before finally dragging to bed between 2 and 3 in the morning!”
We ended up having a serious conversation last night because I hit a breaking point between the video games and his favoritism of the aforementioned chick online [that waited until the last possible second to write papers and work on her finals]. At one point he literally said, “Well, I didn’t get mad at you when you went to bed so early the other night!” What? You mean after I drove us home the 5+ hours from Pennsylvania and was fighting to stay awake that last hour? When any other night, if I had been awake, you would have just been playing on the computer while I scrolled through my phone endlessly, hoping for a scrap of his attention? But this one night that I couldn’t hold my eyes open any longer…that is when you claim to suddenly want to spend time with me?? As bad as I feel for saying it…it feels like a lie. I don’t know. I don’t know what the point of even bringing it up was…? To make a sick, pregnant woman feel bad for needing sleep? Yes, someone get you a cookie, dude!
There are several other things that go into the mix as well, but they’re a bit more personal.
The end result being that I don’t know if this relationship is worth the battle anymore. Almost 5 years and two kids and I am seriously questioning it… I’ve written off a lot over the years. I try to take everything into account when it comes to his poor behavior, but at some point…he is an adult. He can make better choices if he cares to. If he doesn’t…then why am I sticking around? I’m beyond tired or exhausted. I am burnt out. I am unhappy. I need someone to care about me. I need for him to impress me and maintain it. There are reasons for it, but I’m hanging out through May. He has until the end of May to figure out his shit and be the kind of man he would want his daughter to marry or I’m just…done. I don’t want to keep doing the same crap over and over again and always being treated like I don’t matter. Always feeling like I don’t matter.
Aaaaalllllll of that said, I’m going to do my best not to dwell on it for the next 5 months. I don’t want to be continuously complaining about my husband. Or stressing about the all of the uncertainty that would come with leaving. Or being sad thinking about my life without him in it. (I almost cried walking across a parking lot today, several steps behind him, because…one day…he could be just another stranger in a parking lot to me.) I really just want to work towards my goals and try to just let it all be what it will be.
Happy 2017, ya’ll! Heh… I’ll be back tomorrow with some goal updates and organizational stuff!