Sometimes It Lasts In Love, But Sometimes It Hurts Instead

(I’ve been listening to a lot of Adele lately, it seems to be the soundtrack of my life these days. Hence the titles of my posts.)

We talked at length last night. It was another exhausting, late night.

How do I break the cycle? Why do we fight to the point where I feel divorce is the only option, only to make up until the next big fight?

Yesterday I had chest pains. I felt like I couldn’t breathe. When he walked in the door, they tripled in intensity and I honestly thought I was having a heart attack. As I drove away after dinner (had to take one of the kids to something), the pains eased. The more we talked last night, the more the pains eased.

He doesn’t like to hurt me, and he does take cheap shots. It’s nothing short of emotional abuse. He took my hands in his and apologized with tears in his eyes.

And why do I believe him? Because that’s the way he was taught. He was taught to take cheap shots. He doesn’t know any other way. Not that that’s an excuse, but how can I crucify him for being the way he is when I despise it when he does that to me.

I wish I didn’t love him so much, because that would make divorce an easy decision. But I do. I love him very much. The more we talked, the more we discussed the root of where his anger is coming from. A lot of it has to do with insecurities and feelings of anxiety. Again, not that that makes it okay for him to say horrible things to me.

In regards to my last post, I told him he can’t ever take that back. That struck me hard, wounded deep. I know it came from his own insecurity. He told me that he doesn’t know who he is anymore. He thinks I’m cool, and he’s trying to be more like me. Imitation being the highest form of flattery or something.

I took his face in my hands and I told him that I can only handle ONE of me, we don’t need two of me. I asked him if he would read the marriage/therapy books with me and he agreed. He needs better tools to direct his anger.

I also asked him why he resented me, and why it only shows when he’s mad. He’s jealous. He thinks the Universe favours me. Which is does. I tried to tell him that the Universe favours him too, but he just can’t see it.

I think it’s easier for me to forgive him when I understand that the horrible things he says to me stem from his own insecurities. I couldn’t imagine being 28 and still not knowing who I am. I feel bad for him, to be honest. But more importantly, I love him. Love has never been our issue, though. There’s always more than enough love between us.

I told him I can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep reliving this cycle where we fight about shit that is so stupid, that enrages me to the point of thinking that it would be better if we got a divorce, only to make up again. This is our endless cycle, and I can’t live like this for the rest of our days.

It needs to change. He can’t keep unleashing this pent up rage at me by slinging cruel words. Now that I know where it’s coming from, I think it’ll be easier for him to redirect it in a more healthy way.

I also told him that I honestly don’t give a shit about a lot of the things that he does. If I forget my purse and we’re in a rush, it doesn’t bother me that I have to go back and get it. I don’t care about controlling everything around me because for me, it all works out the way it’s supposed to. He’s the kind of person that tries to control everything, orchestrates situations so that ‘everything is perfect’, which I think is dangerous because when you set yourself up to that kind of standard, you’re only going to end up disappointed. And he is, a lot.

He admitted to me that he feels like he’s not perfect enough for me, that he’s constantly disappointing me. That nearly broke my heart. I told him that I don’t hold him up to some ridiculous standard of perfection, that I accept him for who he is, even when he drives me crazy. I think that level of acceptance really hit him, he seemed so relieved. I think he just needed to hear it, hear that he doesn’t have to be perfect, that he is doing just fine. That eased a deeply implanted insecurity. A lot of the anger he carries around is at himself.

Now we just need to help him find better ways of dealing with his anger instead of lashing out and hurting me.

My heart still hurts. I’m still having minor chest pains. But it’s not as bad as it was yesterday. I’m relieved, but sad too.

It needs to change. This cycle needs to change. I can’t keep living like this. I honestly don’t know how someone can stress out over something they have no control over.

In any event, I’m taking tentative steps. I believe it will get better. That’s why I can’t leave him. I maintain hope. My only fear is that this is still part of the incessant cycle of make-up break-up shit and that I’ll never get out of it. However, we’ve never talked this in depth about his insecurities, and he not knowing who he is as a person. I feel like this will be a new chapter for him in his life. A chapter of self discovery. A new chapter for us.

Is this like the abused woman who keeps thinking that ‘he’ll change’ even though he never does? I hope not. He’s grown so much already. I believe he wants to be a better person.

I’m still hurt though.

 

I’m Still Alive

It’s sad that it’s been raining all week and I’ve been pretty happy because despite it, I’ve been in my garden. I built an herb spiral, planted black and red currants, blueberries, raspberries and lots of lettuce and vegetables.

Today is warm and sunny and beautiful and I woke up incredibly grumpy.

I’m upset because I feel like I always have to clean up the shit. Literally and figuratively.

Yesterday I walked into my son’s room to find him naked, with crap smeared everywhere. I didn’t want to go into his room today, so I asked my husband and he grumbled something about needing more sleep or whatever. WHATEVER.

Luckily, even though he was naked, there was no crap smearing today. It was a little but funny, but it’s still annoying.

I just put $200 into outfitting my mountain to be a road bike (road tires, adjustments) and I haven’t been able to ride it. Not even once. I pledged to Bike to Work, a challenge my city offers. I can’t ride my bike to work because I have no one to watch my children. When I do find someone to watch them, they are only available for quick periods of time, ensuring that there is no bike riding for me.

Why don’t I have anyone to watch my kids? Because my mom is a bitch.

Two weeks ago she called me to tell me that she doesn’t like coming over to my house all the time to watch the kids. Which is funny because she hadn’t been over to watch the kids in over a month. She started telling me that she didn’t want to do it anymore. That I was making my problems her problems and she didn’t like it. It’s right at the dinner hour, and she has to cook for my grandmother (who is out of the hospital and doing better). Then she starts telling me that my dad doesn’t like that she comes over all the time. Which is complete and utter bullshit. She uses that line on other people, about how it wasn’t her decision, but my father’s. He put his foot down. He made that choice.

Whatever mom. Whatever makes you feel better. I got so mad that I told her I would quit my job just so I wouldn’t inconvenience her. Then I hung up on her.

Well, as I called my husband to tell him what happened, my mother left a message on my answering machine. She told me that she didn’t care if I quit my job, and that if I did, she wouldn’t feel guilty or bad because I’m making my problems her problems and now it’s not her problem. Oh, and she’s not watching the kids that night (my shift was in 2 hours).

Um? Okay? Asshole.

Now it’s been almost 3 weeks, I’ve been scrambling to find people to watch my kids so I can work and I’ve barely spoken to my mother. I called her once after that to offer her a compromise until I could find a more permanent solution and she completely shut me down.

I’ve been looking for someone all this week and keep coming up with nothing. Finally, today, my husband called a friend of ours who’s coming to help. I was going to call into work and tell them I couldn’t come in. Which stressed me out so much.

My grandmother calls me almost every day. She told me my mother wants an apology for hanging up on her. Absolutely not going to happen. I give in to her tantrums all the damn time and I’m tired of it. I’m already cut-off, so I don’t really care.

Oh yeah, and Sunday is mother’s day. Hoorah.

I sent my sister this email a few days ago:

“G’day,

Dilemma: I despise my mother, yet mother’s day is on Sunday. Will you be calling her? Fuck. I have a nature walk that afternoon that I’m looking forward to!

Ideas? Comments? Concerns?”

To which she responded:

“i haven’t really thought about it to be honest…
rob says hell no, haha.i’ll be calling [boyfriend’s]  mom…
you prob wont be able to get away without calling, but me? hmm… i
dunno, i’m kind of off the radar.
I’m not just going to call in on birthdays and xmas and shit, and then
not have a relationship the rest of the year. its totally
hypocritical.
so, yeah, not sure what to do about that.

i can only hope that i never have a mothers day where multiple
children of mine don’t want to call me…”

That’s right, my mother has alienated 2 out her 3 children. Way to go mom, you’re the best. Here’s a card to honour how special you are to me.

Last year, on Mother’s Day, my husband told me that I didn’t deserve to sleep in. That has stuck with me and now I honestly feel like I don’t deserve anything. I feel like when my daughter comes home with her mother’s day project, I’m going to want to rip it up because I don’t feel like a good mother. I’m pretty sure that wanting to rip up a beautiful gift from my child makes me a terrible mother, but that’s how I feel.

I called my grandmother because I was going to stop by with the kids and drop off some books to my brother’s girlfriend. She told me I still needed to apologize to my mother, which set me off. I started yelling. At my grandmother. My sick grandmother who is having a nurse come to the house to show my mother how to insert her catheter. I yelled at her. And then I hung up and cried a lot.

As I was moping on the drive home, Pearl Jam came on. I’m still alive. Oh, oh I’m still alive.

I thought that was kind of poetic of the Universe.

Because, in spite of it all, I am still alive. Alive with 3 beautiful children, and a (most of the time) wonderful husband.

Hope and Cheerfulness

Yesterday’s counselling session went really well. The lady was really nice. She started by asking us why we chose the other person.

My husband said, “because she’s a cutie,” and it made me laugh. I’ve been trying to get him to answer this question for ages. He also said because I’m passionate and fun.

I told her I chose him because he’s a good person, he always does his best, he makes me want to be a better person, he’s fun to hang out with and brings out the best in me. I started to cry while I told her this.

“Are these good tears or bad tears?”

“Good tears, I love him.”

We focused on changing our perspectives, changing the negatives into positives. I have to work on being a bit more organized (ugh) and he needs to work on not getting upset when plans change.

We didn’t really focus much on the name calling, which disappointed me a bit. To be fair, it was only a one hour appointment so we couldn’t really get into everything. We’ll be making another appointment in a couple of weeks.

She did tell us that we have a good energy. We weren’t nervous, we sat next to each other. He put his foot under mine to keep my feet warm. We laughed a lot. It was really good.

At the end of the session, she asked us what we were both taking away from this session. My husband said being a good role model for the children. (I had mentioned that I felt like his behaviour, and the derogatory way he treats me is affecting the children.) I said unity. Working together to get the house chores done, and working together instead of against each other.

Overall it went really well and I’m glad. I’m looking forward to the next appointment.

When I called to make the appointment, (a third party company that sets us up with the counsellor) the woman on the phone asked me if I would be interested in some reading material. Being a bibliophile I couldn’t say no.

It was delivered yesterday just as we were leaving for the counselling. It’s a great package. It came with two books, The Seven Principles for Making Marriage Work by John M. Gottman, PH.D. and Divorce Busting by Michele Weiner-Davis. It also came with a little booklet for us to go through called Enriching Your Marriage, and another one called Enhancing Your Relationship. There were also come cute little “I love you” coupons.

I particularly like Enhancing Your Relationship because when I opened it up, it literally spoke to me.

“Warning Signs of Destructive Communication Patterns: Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse in a Relationship

– Criticism – attacking someone’s personality or character, rather than a specific behaviour and usually with blame. Criticism is just a step across the line from one of the healthiest things couples engage in-complaining (airing anger and disagreement).

– Contempt – intending to insult and psychologically abuse your partner. Common signs include hostile humour, sarcasm, sibtle put-downs, and body language such as sneers.

– Defensiveness – a natural response, which can include denying responsibility; making excuses; cross-complaining; yes-butting; whining and repeating oneself (nagging).

– Stonewalling – simply refusing to respond or putting up walls. When this becomes a typical pattern, it is destructive because one or both partners are disengaging from any meaningful communication with each other.”

I would say that my husband is the first two, and I’m the second two. I’m glad we went though. I think we’re going to learn a lot from it.

I’m glad I have a partner who’s on board with me too. I know my husband is going to read these books with me and we’ll be able to work on his hurtful words. I’ve been told I’m a button-pusher too so I’ll be working on that.

The last exercise we did was to pull a card from a stack of cards she had. I pulled out Hope. My husband pulled out Cheerfulness. We read the cards and discussed how we have hope for the future of our relationship and how to bring more cheerfulness to it.

 

I Heart Old People

If I died tomorrow, I would not be happy with the way my life has gone.

How sad is that?

In my previous post, I mentioned that my grandmother’s best friend died. Last Sunday she had a heart attack and 2 days ago she died.

My grandmother, with her foot on death’s doorstep, barely had a reaction when my mother told her about her friend. Her friend that lives….lived…right across the street and four houses up the street. Her friend that used to be like a second grandmother to me, who used to let me swim in her gigantic in-ground pool. Who used to offer me cookies and call me dearie in her sweet little Welsh accent.

Suddenly my grandmother is feeling better. She’ll be going to the funeral on Wednesday. She’s been eating more jell-o than she usually does. My mother told me that she’s also clean from head to toe. My mother, a hairdresser, has to monitor my grandmother when she’s bathing, and does her hair afterwords. My grandmother is claustrophobic and can’t abide having a shower.

What would you do if someone you’ve known for 50 years died? What would I do?

My mom told me she went over to see the lady’s husband today. She told me he was shell-shocked. Lost.

How could you go to sleep with someone one night, and then wake up and suddenly you’re all alone in the world?

It doesn’t help that I’m marathoning Grey’s Anatomy and I just watched an episode where they had an old lady die while all her old biddy friends were around her. (I’m in season 2, in case anyone is interested.)

It makes me sad. I love old people. I hate watching shows where old people are mistreated, or when they die.

I hate watching my grandmother die.

I hated watching while my grandfather died. I cut his disgusting toe nails while he was in triage waiting for a room the day before he died. He was still lucid then. His toe nails were growing around his toes and they were yellow and brittle. There’s a sick and twisted part of me that enjoyed cutting them. But I also enjoy picking noses, so I guess it’s that sick and twisted. Is that love? I loved my grandfather dearly. I was his favourite. I’ve always known that.

My grampy had MS. He was so stubborn he never let it get the best of him. He walked until the end. He had it for over 40 years, he walked until he fell over in the bathroom and hit his head.

He died 3 days later.

Fuck.

Now I’m crying. I can’t decide if it’s the memories or fucking Grey’s Anatomy.

I guess that’s why I started my post the way I did.

I don’t want to grow old in this place. Greyopolis, as I call it. I don’t want to live out the rest of my days living this bleak North American materialistic lifestyle.

“I want adventure in the great wide somewhere,” as Belle sang.

I want to die bungy jumping, or mountain biking, or getting hit by lightning. I want to die by driving my car off a cliff, or even by hypothermia. Anything besides old age. Anything. Anything besides a life of boring monotony followed by a shitty hospital death.

Put Together Like a Horse and Carriage

I guess I’ve been feeling sentimental these days. Maybe it’s because I’m due to start my period soon. I’ve been feeling out of sorts, cranky and weepy. It could also be that I’ve been going to bed really late for the last week. Or it could be that I’m starting to question my relationship with my husband.

He has ADD (as I suspect I do as well, though it’s never been diagnosed) and he lives by a specific routine. I have my own routine, but it’s totally different than his. He has too many expectations and then ends up incredibly disappointed when those expectations aren’t met.

He nags me like he’s my parent. Instead of putting away a dish I may have left out, or asking me nicely to put it away, he gets mad at me for it. It’s been worse since he’s gone off his medication. He gets grumpy and that makes me grumpy.

We’ve lived in this house for almost 4 years and he’s never once cleaned the bathroom in our bedroom. Right now we have black mould growing in the toilet. It’s disgusting and it smells. He desecrates the porcelain god much more frequently than I do, so that I leave matches in there for him to light, because it’s absolutely unholy. On principle I don’t want to clean the toilet this time, but I have a feeling it will never get done. I’m going to break soon and clean it. And I hate myself for it.

He doesn’t do his own laundry, I do it. I pick up after him, and the kids. I try to pick up after myself but I just feel overwhelmed. I feel like I do everything (which is nothing) around here and I get no credit, no acknowledgment, and no help.

Once he told me that I was the queen of the castle, and that I had to take care of things around the house, even if that meant delegating. The thing is, I just feel overwhelmed all of the time because I’m supposed to take care of 4 other people, not including myself. So I do nothing.

I’m messy. I know I’m messy. I’ve told him I need help and he never (or rarely) gives it to me. I’m frustrated and the more I think about it, the more I wonder if maybe we’re just not compatible enough to live together.

How would he do it if he lived alone? I mean, for the most part he’s neat, but he just expects me to do it all. I’m not his mother, who is a wonder woman of cleaning. Her house is spotless and I bet I could stop in, unexpected at any hour of the day, and her house would be immaculate like a show home.

That’s just not feasible for me.

I’ve been thinking more and more about leaving. Just packing up what’s really important to me and leaving. I have no money and no where to go. But sometimes I just want to leave.

His moods really affect me. I shouldn’t let them, but they do. He gets moody about any number of things and then he gets mad at me for whatever silly reason. I get so frustrated because I don’t give a shit about the things that he does, and he doesn’t give a shit about the things that I do. I wonder when this is going to break us.

“Why did you leave this out,”

“I don’t know! I didn’t think about it!”

“Yeah, that’s the problem.”

He gets upset about any number of stupid little things; the toilet paper roll not being changed when it’s finished, a glass I left on the dinner table, his clothes not being cleaned.

“Do them yourself!” I yell.

“No, it’s your job,” he insists. Because he goes out and makes a living and single handedly supports our family, it’s my job to do everything around the house. I can’t do it. I’ve told him I can’t do it. He doesn’t listen.

My friend told me he was born in the wrong century.

My mother told me she’s never once heard him praise me, only knock me down.

Sometimes I feel like I’m just biding my time until I can financially support myself and get the fuck out of here. Other times I wonder how I could live without him.

The good times we have are so good. We hang out, we laugh, we communicate and we have incredible sex.

When things are bad, they’re really ugly. There’s never any middle ground, it’s either one or the other.

I honestly feel there are better people for both of us out there, somewhere. I feel like there’s a woman out there that can keep his house clean and make him happier than I do.

I’ve had dreams of sitting on a mountainside with a man (who’s face I can never see) and I lean into him and he puts his arm around me. I look off to the horizon and wonder how my ex-husband is doing, and if he’s found the happiness that I have with this man. I’ve had this dream a couple of times.

Maybe I am just biding my time.

Maybe I’m just dreaming.

Maybe I’ll just chalk this up to hormones and call it a day. I doubt it, though. Something’s going to come to a head and I’m going to have to make a decision sooner or later. I’m just not in the right place to do it yet.

What Is Love, Baby Don’t Hurt Me…

I really like to use the ‘Tag Surfer’ option on the dash board. It bring up lots of different blogs that I can sort through and enjoy. One thing, that I like reading about is love. Everyone has a different perspective and it’s always interesting (and a lot of the times sad) to see what others have to say about it.

People who have been hurt too many times don’t believe in it. People who have a significant other celebrate it.

I feel though, that love gets a bad rap. I mean, love is not fickle, love is not tenuous, love is not fleeting. Love is pure. Love is all-encompassing. Love is, well, love.

Beyond all else, love is simple. It’s people that make it complicated.

Love is such a beautiful thing, and it’s there to be felt, enjoyed and shared.

Don’t give up, people. Love is all around you. You just need to open yourself up to it.

How can you ever experience true love if you’ve never experienced heart ache? Sometimes you need to go through some pretty tough shit to come out a better person on the other side, more ready to open yourself up to love.

My favourite love story is The Notebook. Typical and cheesy, I know. But it’s such a great example of love enduring. It’s a sweet love story that is tragic and beautiful. It also makes for a truly cathartic cry. That’s right, I watch that movie when I feel the need for a cathartic cry. The last time I watched it, my husband held me while I sobbed my eyes out. Luckily for him it’s not often.

I love love stories.

Another favourite of mine is The Terminator. That’s right. I consider it a love story. When Kyle and Sarah are in the hotel room, he confesses, “I came across time for you Sarah, I love you. I always have.” Of course there’s lots of explosions and action going on, but at the heart of it, he went back in time to become the father of her child who would lead the rebellion against the machines. The love part was simple, it’s everything else that got in the way.

If you’re feeling sad or lonely, go out with friends and enjoy the simplicity of good people. If you don’t have friends, go out and make some. You’ll gain new experience and maybe make a best friend out of it. Friends love to and while it might not be the romantic love you’re looking for, give love a chance.

Go hug your lover and feel that moment deep in your heart. Revel in it.

Take the word ‘hate’ out of your vocabulary. Hate is a very strong word and can cause a lot of damage.

Make peace with yourself. It doesn’t do the world much good when most of the people in it hate themselves. Try loving yourself. It’s really not such a bad thing. If you sit around despising everything about yourself then you’re definitely not opening yourself up to love.

Go outside and feel the sunshine on your face and be grateful that you’re alive and have the freedom to enjoy the fresh air.

Love life!

Don’t give up, love is there, you just have to see it and not make it so complicated.

You Are Loved

A sappy love post.

When I woke up this morning to snow, I almost cried. I also woke up with a tummy ache. It seemed like I had a pretty bad case of the Monday Blah’s. Until I sat down to breakfast with my kids.

My eldest had just left for school and I had opened my computer to put on Josh Groban. My kids adore him and let’s not lie to ourselves, I love him too. His music is so pure. (I’m actually going to his concert July!)

I put on the song You Are Loved, and my 3-year-old Bean started singing along with him. It’s so adorable to hear a 3-year-old sing ‘you are loved.’ My son, sitting in his high chair, eating his cheerio’s started to dance.

“I love Jwosh Goban,” she said to me, “and I love you, too.” My heart melted. (I also love the way she can’t quite pronounce his name, it’s so endearing.) My little Bean climbed up in my lap and looked me in the eyes while she sang to me that I am loved. It made the snow a little less depressing, and subsided my tummy ache.

It was a Josh Groban morning and it just brightened my whole day.

In most of the trials and tribulations of my life, I have to admit, I’ve always known that I am loved. I have 3 beautiful children that love me, a wonderful husband whom I cherish, that loves me very deeply. My parents and siblings love me. I have to say it’s a feeling I don’t appreciate enough. No matter how bad things get, I have a great support system. Not that things ever get that terrible, mostly because I won’t let them. But it’s nice to know.

And now it’s all falling apart. My Bean is tired of Josh, and is being whiny. My son is getting antsy in his high chair and  squawking to get out.

Well, it was a wonderful moment that I enjoyed thoroughly, even if it was only fleeting.