Thirty-nine days

That's how long I have to wait to move... thirty-nine days. Thirty-seven days to close, and then 2 days for them to move. Assuming that my bank can get things underway quickly enough, and that I can get my financial agreement finalized. (The bank requires that prior to closing.)

The financial agreement could be an issue, given this morning. We had a fight about things before I was barely out of bed. Basically, he noted the need to get to work on things, I commented that I needed his appraisal of his business assets, and he said, "I thought we agreed to leave the business out of the equation."

No... you said it. I didn't agree to it.

So the threats began again... you know, the ones where he tells me it could get expensive and ugly, etc... And I basically told him (rather loudly) that 'yes, I know that he's willing to spend all of our money to fight me if I don't give in to whatever he says.' And that I was tired of the threats.

Our daughter was in the kitchen, right there, sitting on the floor with her puppy. She was very quiet, and crying. We left for school, and I talked to her a little as I drove. And learned that the sound carries quite well from the living room (where prior multi-hour marathon manipulation and discussion sessions were held) up to her bedroom, directly above it. She understands that his behavior hasn't been right, but she claims he has changed.

She can claim it all she wants, but I still don't think it's changed enough to be anywhere close to appropriate.

I felt horrible for fighting in front of her, but then I didn't. Because I've spent 25 years NOT standing up for myself. I think I'm a little overdue.

Better is good

It's been a long road since I last wrote. Selling the house and moving. Crying because I was now 'homeless'. Working our asses off on the house we bought as a rental, so we could move into it. Kid #1 graduating from high school and going off to college. Kid #2 going away to the boarding school that kid #1 went to prior. Ending an almost 10 year friendship that more resembled an addiction than a friendship. Hearing another 10 year friend tell me that my husband was emotionally abusive, and having to look at the reality of that. Realizing that the thought of building my dream house was giving me panic attacks because my husband would be living in it, but the kids were growing to the point that it might just be the two of us. Telling him I don't want to be married to him any more.

The idea of having to live with him, with no kids as buffers is terrifying. Knowing that this "dream house" would stress our finances to the point that we'd be either trapped together or financially ruined apart.

Dealing with his arguments that I'm doing this because friends are pressuring me... that this is totally unlike me so someone must be influencing me... that I am just depressed and should see a doctor about my depression... that I'm menopausal... that I must be having an affair... that I'm ruining all of his goals and dreams (what about the fact that I could never even HAVE goals or dreams?) Funny how he never really can look at himself as part of wondering why I am doing this. Even after I tell him it's because he is manipulative, emotionally abusive, self-centered, controlling... I'm still the one who is wrong, as always. I'm apparently the only one who thinks these things about him (any examples I give to the contrary are immediately disregarded as usual).

But not any more. I can't begin to summarize all of the twists and turns my brain has gone through in the past 6 months, but the end result is this...

Tomorrow I am going to stop by the lawyer's office to pay the retainer and tell him to go ahead with the filing. Once I hear from him that it has been filed, I will immediately contact my Realtor to buy the house I saw last week.

Life is beginning again. I'm working to rebuild my self-esteem... to find myself again. I've been talking to my minister and he told me that I'm obviously on a journey, and that I should keep doing what I'm doing. For the first time in years, I'm beginning to see a future. It's a bit scary because the future is so... big. It is open in all sorts of directions, and I don't know which ways it may go. But it's so much better than seeing no hope and no future. Things are getting better.

The pebble in my backpack

I have this backpack I wear.

You can't see it, but it's always there. It holds these little pebbles... little things that I think and feel, but am not comfortable enough to share with someone else.

Sometimes the pebbles start to get heavier and heavier. Some, you would swear, are bricks, not pebbles. Perhaps even concrete building blocks. Some even feel like boulders.

I've been holding this one boulder in my backpack for over 10 years now. It started out tiny... just a hint of a thought, really. But as I gained self-realization, the pebble grew heavier. It became harder to carry alone, but too personal to share.

In time, I told a few close friends about my pebble. They'd help lift the backpack for me from time to time, but it was still my job to carry it - that tiny pebble that felt like a mountain on my back.

About a week ago, my husband told me something that he had been told, and along with it, added his 'interpretation' of the event. It stung, but his interpretation hurt more than the words he had been told. In thinking about it, I realized that his interpretation was most likely wrong and I felt more and more that I needed to tell him so. But in order to tell him, I had to open my backpack, and show him that massive rock I had been carrying around.

The fear at that thought was instantaneous. What would he think of that long-hidden pebble that had grown so large? Would he understand it, or reject it?

I plotted for a week, pulling together my thoughts on how to approach the subject. I gathered other instances that helped support and explain my points. I practiced on one of those close friends who knew about the pebble; friends who had watched it grow over the years and who understood what a load it was.

And I planned my timing carefully - I needed enough time to discuss this thoroughly. The 2 hour car dive on Sunday seemed the perfect opportunity.

In spite of the preparation, I was almost too afraid to open that zipper and take it out. I put my hand on the pull a few times, and took it off again without opening it. But as I tried to just hide the backpack under the seat, I knew it was important to stay strong.

I slowly opened the zipper, bringing up the topic that I knew would allow my lead-in. When the pull stuck a little, I took a deep breath, and tugged it on until it was entirely open.

And then I took out the boulder and showed it to him. I didn't point out all of it's bumps and ridges, but I let him get a good look at it. I described it just enough that he knew what it was like.

And then I realized something. He didn't ask many questions. He just took it at face value and moved on to other subjects. And the face value was that it really WAS just a pebble to him.

My backpack is a lot lighter today.

Is it bad to hang up on my husband?

He calls me. Almost every day, during one of his 3 breaks.

"Any news?" "Anyone call or come over?"

I get that he's bored with his work. Unfortunately, I'm not. I'm swamped. It's not that I mind a phone call for a reason. It's just that I'm not here for his entertainment, and it annoys me.

What annoys me more is when he calls me to nag at me.

Today he asked if I had sent out a check he asked me to send. The address was in his email, which he can't be bothered to forward to me. I'm just supposed to log into his email and find it.

Quick answer: no, I hadn't.

Longer answer: I was going through some bills a couple days ago, and got sidetracked by some other items and hadn't gotten to that one. And he came and found me at my desk when apparently I was supposed to be packing up the garage sale leftovers. Even though he had also asked me to do these bills. I didn't realize the sequence was important, but apparently it was, as he got rather irate at me for not having the garage sale boxes all packed when he got home.

So today, when he called and asked if I had sent the check and I hadn't, I got the spiel about "what were you doing when you didn't pack up the garage sale?"

So I hung up. Which rather pisses him off, by the way.

But I generally feel better for not having listened to him ranting at me, at least until I get the rant about not hanging up on him.

A long time ago...

...in a galaxy far, far away, I had some free time.

I used to enjoy free time. I'd read books. Go for walks or bike rides. Maybe even blog regularly.

Now? Not so much. My daily grind beginning tomorrow includes approximately 3 hours of driving kids around to school and home from school/sports practices. Then there's piano lessons. And boy scouts. Etc...

That covers the basic kid transportation.

Of course, I still have to work. Do grocery shopping and make meals. Keep up with the laundry. Do bills. Business bookkeeping. Taxes. Insurance forms. Bank accounts. Mending. Family doctor appointments. Help with homework. More etc...

(Notice I didn't include cleaning the house above. That was intentional. I figure if the dirt bothers people, they can clean. Seems fair to me!)

Yesterday I gave a baby shower for a friend. My husband told me I needed to give this friend a baby shower. Then he told the friend's husband I'd be giving them a baby shower. And then, he told his mother that it would be one of the first two weekends in March. At which point, she began calling me every other day, asking if I had decided on the date so she could get off work.

Not that the shower wasn't a good idea. And not that I really minded giving it, all that much. But having the option to make my own decision & schedule would have been nice.

I think I'm tired. Good thing it's been sunny. Solar power is an amazing thing.

I'm not sure how everything got so crazy, when it happened, or how to stop it. But at least the taxes are done for now!

But same-sex marriages aren't even legal!

While my son was home over Christmas break, I was telling him that the ASD (the hubby to those not in the know) was irritated with me. And it was bugging me, because he was acting like a girl and I didn't marry a girl.

He had asked me to deliver some parts from his side business... not a big deal because it's not that far out of the way. I do that whenever he has parts to drop off to this one client. But then the next day, he asked me to drop off an invoice for them. He knew we were short on money, and had talked to the owner and arranged that if I dropped off the invoice directly to him, he'd walk it through and get it paid faster.

I complained a bit. I leave the house very early in the morning, and didn't really want to make another trip there, and have to walk all over the business sporting pillow hair and no makeup trying to find the owner. It's bad enough going in and laying the parts on the drop-off table... actually finding and talking to someone is a bit beyond my comfort level.

And because I complained a little, he told me, "Never mind, just mail it then."

I questioned him, to make sure he meant it. I told him that I didn't WANT to drop it off, but if he really preferred it, I would. But he insisted that I should just mail it.

So I just mailed it. And then he started rubbing it in my face that if I had delivered it, we'd have the check already.

So the next time I delivered parts to that company, I asked if I should drop off the invoice too. And he insisted that no, he had arranged it the last time but he couldn't arrange that every time. The opportunity was lost; I should have dropped it off the last time like he arranged.

But he told me NOT to. Even after I questioned it. And then he kept throwing it back in my face when I did what he told me to do.

And I find that annoying.

I'm certainly not going to do something I don't want to do without ever questioning the necessity of it. I'm pretty easy-going, and if he had told me to just do it, I would have. But if I am told that it's OK not to do something I don't want to do... why would I do it?

And my son's response?

"You DID marry a girl!"

It seemed like a good idea at the time...

"Pick a number from one to six," I instructed my husband. We were lying in bed, and I decided there was no time like the present to spring his Christmas gift on him.

He had instructed all of us that he didn't want any presents this year. Which translates into something like, "I'm too busy (and also too lazy) to buy anyone else presents, so I'm going to say no one should buy me anything and that lets me off of the hook."

So I did my duty as a parent, and ordered him a book I heard him mentioning one afternoon, so that the kids would have something to give him, and I bought them all presents from both of us. And I wasn't really going to give him anything, since I knew I wouldn't get anything either, so it wasn't like I was going to get a guilt trip if I didn't.

But then I started thinking how I got the new bike for mother's day and the inversion table for my birthday and the Neil Diamond concert in between and the new king size bed in there sometime too. (And I know he agreed to the bike hoping that it'd firm up my butt when I rode it to work, and the bed and inversion table because a healthy back means I sleep with him instead of on the floor, but ulterior motives still turned into great gifts, right?)

So I thought well... perhaps I can come up with something to DO rather than something to BUY so we wouldn't have to put out any more money.

After a minute of thought and a few questions which I refused to answer, he selected three, and I told him that he had just chosen his Christmas present. And of course, being totally confused by that point, he opted to learn what this meant immediately, rather than waiting the last few days for Christmas to arrive.

"You just chose three months," I told him. He thought a little bit, but still looked confused. "Three months, every day," I continued when he still didn't get it.

He thought a bit more. And then, suddenly, a light bulb went on. And you could see the dismay wash over his face.

"You mean I could have chosen six?"

I need to vent, so just disregard this post. Thanks.

I've been really stressed out on a work project lately.

I'm tired of my job. And I'm really tired of this project. To the point where I really don't think well, can't stay focused, and don't really care either.

But I'm almost done with it and intend to keep plugging away at it.

So the hubby decides it's time to sell our house a couple of months ago. Which is clearly, the absolute WORST time we could begin to try to sell a house... autumn plus a struggling economy? Sure honey, whatever you say. I worked my butt off to get ready for his arbitrary "open house" deadline, in the meantime stressing myself almost beyond my ability to cope. I wasted most of my accumulation of vacation time to work on the house too.

I'm really nice that way.

So now we're having another open house. And I'm supposed to help do the leaves. And clean the house. And get things organized better than they have been. And make a new "chore chart" for the kids.

And everything is still stressing me.

He's working extra because some urgent jobs picked up. And while he's gone, I'm feeling not-so-productive.

Sunday night I crawled in bed and read a book. When I feel overwhelmed, reading a book is the best way that I know of to recharge. And when he came home, the only thing he asked was, "So did you work on the chore chart tonight?"

I answered no, and proceeded to ignore him when he continued by asking what I had accomplished. I figured it was Sunday, I didn't need any huge accomplishments.

And last night, after I finished working, I made supper, helped the daughter with some projects, and when I couldn't stop shivering, I crawled into the bathtub and took a hot bath.

And when he came home, he again asked if I had worked on the chore chart.

And I again ignored him.

I'm good that way.

What not to say

I was just spending my work time (who feels like working on a Saturday anyway?) catching up on some blog-reading, and I ran across an interesting post on Daisy's blog. I'll pause here while you go read it.

Go ahead. I'm still waiting.

Are you back now? Ok, so let's talk about this.

The other day my hubby was talking about how Palin is hot. I've heard other guys say that too. And to be honest, I really don't see it. Ok, she's in fairly good shape for a mid-40's mom, I'll give her that.

But HOT? Not by any definition of hot that I've ever used. I don't see it. (Of course, I am highly attracted to intelligence, so perhaps therein lies the problem... but that's a side issue.)

So then he said I should look at other mid 40's moms and she's way better looking. And seeing as how *I* am a mid 40's mom, I just looked at him and said, "Oh. So she's way hotter than me?"

And he answered, "You're both good looking."

Um. Do we feel the burn here? He knows that she is low on my list of favorite people. Way low. And I just got compared to Sarah Palin.

And I tied.

Ouch. That stings.

There's a TV show I've seen flash across the screen as one of the kids is cruising through cable channels. It's called "What Not to Wear".

So why isn't there one called "What Not to Say"?

(This is where Daisy's post comes in, in case none of you caught that yet.)

Daisy apparently asked her husband if she was as fat as someone else. I worded my question to my husband differently, but asking if you are hot as someone else is equally risky.

So women? Here's a tip I've learned. Here's your "what not to say"....

Never ask a question that there is only one right answer to. Never. Ever. Because trust me, you generally won't get the right answer.

And men? Your first thought? Is probably not the right answer. So stop. Bite your tongue. HARD. Use your brain. (The upper one). Think hard about your first thought. Think why it might not be the right answer. Think about how much you enjoy having meals cooked for you. About how sex on any sort of regular basis is a wonderful perk to being married.

And then say something vague and thoughtful to protect your ass. Something like, "What woman? I was busy thinking about how great YOU look tonight."

The Power of "No"

I just learned something last month. Something that I should have learned at about age two but apparently unlearned at some point in my life.

I learned how awesome it is to say, "No."

See, all that stress I was under in July and August wore me out. As you probably could tell by my strangled blog posts. I promised myself that I'd make it past the big end of August goal that I'd promised hubby we'd make (his goal, not mine, but I DID promise).

And I made it. Barely, but I kept pushing myself with little sleep, fighting my perfectionistic attitudes and forcing myself to settle for just a bit more than was feasible instead of having everything perfect.

And it got done. It wasn't perfect, but it was ok.

But I also promised myself that when that deadline was past, I was going to take care of me. Remember the post I made about depression? I lied. I didn't call.

But I would have, honest. Except that I found something out about myself - if I stand up for myself, I am ok.

The depression was coming from giving up myself for someone else's goals. From putting more of me into it than I had available to put in.

When deadline day hit, and everything was done as well as it could be in the time we had, I just crashed. Did nothing. And later in the day when the hubby mentioned what we were going to start doing next, I calmly said, "No."

"Oh, I didn't mean today. We'll wait a day or two," was his oh-so-generous response.

I reiterated my opinion. "No."

"What do you mean, 'No'?" he asked.

I wanted to sarcastically ask him which letter he didn't understand... the 'N' or the 'O'... but I didn't. Pat me on the back for my tact - it doesn't appear often!

Instead I proceeded to tell him that I had been stressed beyond my ability to handle it for too long and it had caused too much depression, and what he was asking for was not something I could or would handle. So my answer was "No."

He wasn't happy. But oddly enough, I was.

I felt as if a weight had lifted off of me. I had successfully stood up for myself! And I realized that my depression was stemming mostly from not focusing on myself and what I needed.

So I decided to hold off on using the counseling option offered by my work. I'll be getting an annual physical soon, and mentioning it to my doctor at that point. But I'm feeling so much better that I just decided to save the free sessions for sometime when we actually need them. Right now I don't.

And that is the power of "No."

Why couldn't I have learned that at age two like any normal toddler? It'd have made the past few months a lot more sane!

Un-venting

Ok, so the ASD came home to help, and even though he once again didn't get his powerwashing done, he WAS rather helpful. And the house did look much better by having several more hours to clean. We had time to wash the curtains and rehang them, wash the chandelier globes and rehang SOME of them, sweep and wipe down the floors, wash down and dust most of the woodwork in the living room, and carry out all of the boxes that were still in the house.

But... when he got home he grumped about how he didn't know why I was so mad. Because he bought me several extra hours.

I told him it was because 1) I had already planned my schedule around the previous schedule, 2) I told him 3 times yesterday not to change it, and 3) he did it without asking me and just announced it after the fact.

I don't think he understood. All he could see was that it bought me more time.

venting

Ok, now I am even more pissed off.

ASD (short for Almighty Supreme Dictator, aka the hubby) just called. He rescheduled the realtor appointment to 3:00 this afternoon without asking me (I had scheduled it for 11:00 this morning), and called to tell me the new appointment time.

I know the house is a mess, but I told him all three times when he tried to change it yesterday that it had to be today or the open house on Sunday was canceled. The realtor needs his time to do the appraisal. It's not my fault that he can't seem to stay focused enough to meet his own deadlines.

The second and third times he called me yesterday to try to get the realtor's phone number to change it, I told him no, and explained why. When he wouldn't listen to me, I hung up on him. He hates when I hang up on him, but I don't see why I need to listen to his sermons if he refuses to listen to me.

Seems fair to me.

So I planned my day around the realtor's appointment... took the entire day off work to clean. The morning prior to his ORIGINAL appointment was to get the boxes of clutter that we've been packing up organized & moved out, and do some basic sweeping.

And once he was gone, I had scheduled for the mother-in-law to come over to help do some heavier cleaning... wash curtains, take down light fixture globes & wash them, wash walls & woodwork, etc.

So now, without even asking me, he rescheduled the realtor to come at a time that will be right in the middle of my heavy cleaning. And when I complained, he told me he'd come home and help me clean before the realtor gets here.

I do not want him helping me clean. I don't even want him in my HOUSE right now.

He had planned to powerwash the house today. Of course, he's been trying to accomplish that since Saturday and still hasn't done more than the garage. With all of the crap lying around, he thinks the most important thing is to powerwash the house.

And now he is going to come home and help me clean instead????? This was MY job. and dammit I had it well under control.

He can't seem to do his own jobs but he has to do MINE???

grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr

Life's a risk

I do this thing that my husband calls 'setting him up for failure'. And I don't just do it to him either.

When something is important to me, I want it to be important to the people that I care about the most. And if they show me that it is, then I feel validated. I matter to them, because they remembered my important events.

Of course it could just be that they own a good calendar reminder software, but I prefer not to consider that option.

The problem is that I also interpret them forgetting my important events as proof that I'm not important to them. And I also expect it to happen. By not letting myself hope for what I really want, I tell myself that it won't hurt as much when I don't get it.

I tell myself that. But it's a big lie. It still hurts. A lot.

Plus I spend the days depressed, prior to whatever important thing I was purposely pretending didn't matter, so I don't have to be depressed after it.

And yes, that is one hellishly confusing sentence. Just shut up and read it over. Eventually it'll make sense. I hope.

My husband thinks I should just tell him what I want. Remind him of the important things so he has a chance to do it right. Tell him what I want for gifts so he doesn't have to try to figure out what I might want and risk getting it wrong.

He wants an insurance policy. A get-out-of-jail-free card.

Not reminding him is what he means by setting him up for failure. I'm insuring he won't do what I want because I don't give him the reminders he needs.

When he says that, somehow it seems to make sense, like he's really right. He has this way of presenting his twisted logic that just makes it sound logical.

But when I think about it - really think - it just sounds like a cop-out. He wants an easy out. He doesn't want to have to work... to think... to remember... to anticipate what I might like. And he wants a way to make it my fault when he screws up.

But is it my job to give him that?

If I spend the days prior to my birthday depressed, hoping beyond hope that a really close friend will remember it, when my biggest fear is that he probably won't... and if he notices that I'm depressed and pushes me to tell him what's wrong, but I just give him superficial answers and don't tell him it's because, more than anything... and more than anyone else I know... it's important to me that HE remembers my birthday without being reminded...

Am I setting him up for failure?

Is it unrealistic to expect your spouse or really close friends to know what is important to you, and to make it a point to remember? Is it really my job to tell them, or my fault if I don't and they forget?

I'd like to think that by NOT giving them an easy way out, I'm also setting them up for spectacular successes. How can someone succeed if you don't give them opportunities? Clearly opportunities for success go hand-in-hand with equal opportunities for failure. But who would want to remove all opportunities for success in order to remove all chances of failure?

A single red rose

As I predicted... I did get a gorgeous bouquet of flowers today, including some carnations and one red rose.

The unexpected... he did not pick them up at the grocery store on the way home. He had them delivered to me at the office. There's something about getting that call from the receptionist that you have a delivery that just makes you smile all day.

And we emailed to order the chair for my birthday.

Mr. Sometimes-Wonderful was pretty sweet today. Guess there's a reason I kept him for 20 years.

Twenty years ago...

Twenty years ago, I was about 20 lbs lighter. Yes, I know... seriously underweight. That's not a good image, but I lose weight when I'm under stress. I can't help it. And getting ready for a wedding is stressful.

Yup, you guessed it... I've been with Mr. Sometimes-Wonderful for 20 years now.

No I still haven't gotten my birthday chair. (To give him credit... we did go to buy one I had seen on eBay, but the auction ended so we're waiting to see if the guy relists it). I doubt I'll get a gift today, but there's really nothing important that I want anyway.

But I probably will get a vase of flowers from the grocery store floral department... generally mostly carnations because he likes how they smell. (I prefer daffodils or lilies, but it's not really the right season for either of those.) He usually has them mix in one red rose too, I guess because your wife is supposed to get red roses.

We're not going out tonight because he wants to wait for another 1 1/2 weeks... he's trying to make weight for a sporting event that is coming up and he wants to enjoy his steak & seafood meal, so we are going to postpone our night out until he can actually eat. Don't worry, I'll hold him to it. We WILL get our night out!

But... he remembered it. Some men don't even do that! In fact, he remembered and told me "Happy Anniversary" even before I remembered this morning. Of course... he is a morning person and I'm not, and it was 6 am... but I'm willing to give credit where credit is due. :)

He may not always be Mr. Wonderful, but he's a good guy. Smart... nice looking... funny... hard working (often too hard-working!)... perhaps a bit too obsessed with his aging process, but we all have our issues with getting older.

My main complaint is that I wish he could just live life today instead of always saying what we will do next week or next month. I think life is more fun if you can be spontaneous once in a while and just say "screw it" to all that stuff that should be done. You never know you won't have a next week or next month. Planning for the future is wonderful, but the future arrives before you know it, and if you always put off those little things until you have more time, you may never find time.

Take my word for it... twenty years is like nothing. You need to enjoy each day of it.