As explained below, I put in an application and was approved and completely smitten with a beautiful little chihuahua. I cannot stop thinking about her. Looked at her picture every day.
Talked again with my husband yesterday and he refused. And of course, with him, he can’t just refuse, he has to continue to throw insults my way.
I’m terrible at taking care of things. I’m irresponsible. I’m trying to ‘replace my son’. I don’t pay attention. I don’t pick up after them, feed, them, groom them or see after their medical care. He “KNOWS MORE THAN ME.”
None of this is remotely true. Did I let them poop in the yard sometimes when it was super cold or rainy? Sure, I’ll own that. That’s it.
I actually started laughing at the last one because he was dead serious. This is the shit. That’s what I say when I start having thoughts of getting the FO. This is the shit. This is the shit that makes me lose all respect for you. This is the shit that makes me realize you are irrational and mean. This is the shit that I will not stand for.
I’m the kind of sad that hurts. I’m sick. I am having so much trouble interacting here at work and smiling. I’ve got years of experiencing though so I’ll make it work. I’m sad about the dog. I’m not sad about that fool or anything he said. I’m sad that I’m back in this place. I’m sad that this man feels he can reign superior over me even after all of these years. I explained to him that this cannot be a case of “let” and he said it is. He added “if you bring that dog home, it will disappear.” So I get threats too. Healthy, right?
He keeps saying we can get a dog when we move. Now, this sounds perfectly reasonable and acceptable, I know. I would agree if we haven’t been looking at houses for 5 FUCKING YEARS and as soon as I find one I like, he finds something wrong with it or drags his feet on seeing it. I began to suspect that looking at houses was simply something he enjoyed doing and he more or less agreed. This is what he does. He walks up to the decision line and stalls. I feel like I’ve sacrificed so much to “compromise” with him.
Moving. Being able to be a full time musician. Having another kid. This is big fucking stuff. Not to mention being the butt of jokes and teasing regularly, rarely hearing a compliment, and never having a date anywhere because that stuff is just not in his personality. And I should just accept it and stop bringing it up.
I’ve been drowning my sorrows in art supplies and storing older ones that I don’t use as much in the basement for when I open my business. It will be good to have supplies on hand for folks who do not have their own. Art supplies are a fully acceptable addiction in my mind. I’ve been retreating to the art table a lot lately. This time of year always draws me to it.
I’m going to go back to my therapist I think. I’m going to get my fucking life together. I envision my own home whether we stay together or now. I know it sounds insane but I feel like our marriage might work better if we lived in different homes.