I’m home. Been home since Friday night. Today’s Tuesday.
Himself is on “best behaviour” (not that it can be maintained 24 hours a day; his nasty has come out once since I returned) and although he says he has been trying and will keep trying not to get “carried away” with drinking, I don’t have much faith in that toothless plan. Where are the tools he didn’t have before, that he has now? Where will he get them?
All our discussion, all my suggestions, were to do with improving the connection between us. As if the poor state of our relationship is the source of his intoxication. The hell it is.
This morning I made a crack (“What — you didn’t solve all the world’s problems during all those hours of talktalktalking?”) about the “big party” and he left in a snit, with only a cold goodbye as he walked away. I can be a sarcastic little cowgirl, a trait I’ve worked on changing. Not always with success, alas. Mostly it comes down to not saying what I’m thinking. I’ve become quite good at that, but not 100% by any means.
My son said to me, “Mom, maybe you should let yourself be unhappy — I mean, stay mad long enough to take effective action. You’re too forgiving, and then you let things go.”
That’s exactly what happens. My anger subsides and I reach for a positive, loving solution that will let me stay in my home and in this relationship. We end up reaffirming our love for each other, but nothing changes.
I like my conveniences, and staying in my home and this relationship are two of them.
I make far too many life choices for convenience’s sake.
My best friend, Petra: “I’m surprised you’re still with him You always make excuses for him. Other people have stressors in their lives; they don’t do or say the things he does.”
My sister Bellwether: “I’m surprised you’re still with him, the way he treats you.”
They hear my upset, my frustration, my disappointment and hurt. I don’t yak about the parts of my life that are going smoothly, the parts of this relationship that are quite nice, supportive, loving, kind and warm. Does this make it sound as if misery is all there is, so that when I let off steam with my close friends, the small picture erases the big picture in their minds?
Let’s give the man some of his due.
He phones to tell me there’s a white goose at the ravine.
He brings me a bouquet of wildflowers when he’s been out in the field.
He makes a fuss about me to the grandchildren, trying to get them to be as excited about me as they are about him.
He brags about me to his family and friends. He doesn’t complain about me, as I do to my family and friends about him. Although as my friends and family say, he has no reason to complain. Then again, they’ve only heard my side of the stories.
I heard on the radio last night someone say “People who have trouble maintaining healthy relationships are often very kind and loving to a companion animal.”
That’s Himself to a T. He dotes on our little dog, searches for it, gets it out of its bed to lie beside him on the couch and be petted, looks for it whenever it’s out of sight.
Thank god he doesn’t do that to me. Though I could use a bit of that massage, if he were ever to offer it, it would be for 30 seconds and then he’d want his turn and would complain if it didn’t last half an hour.
Well I’d better go, have to spend the day in the office.
I wonder how irritating it is for you, dear reader, to follow all this and have things to say to me about how I should smarten up and take the dive off this pier, and not be able to say them.