You know... I hate people who state the obvious and treat me like I don't know what I'm doing. I hate it even more when I realize they really and honestly believe they mean well.
I just spent two hours on the phone with Chris. Smack dab in the middle of my writing time, too, dammit, so I have a piddly count for today.
I really, really, really need to find out about the truck, Lord. Either good or bad; I don't really care anymore. I JUST NEED TO FIND OUT. I NEED TO KNOW. I seriously can't move forward until I know. (Just thought I'd offer up a little reminder, there, Lord. Since tomorrow is Monday and all...)
This is all my fault, dontcha know. I should have been saving my extra money (Riiight. Like there was any extra money) since January. Oh, yes, there was that little problem with getting yelled at and kicked out of the house on numerous occasions, but that was my fault too, you know. I need to go to counseling to talk about my problem, which is, according to Chris, that I am emotionally unavailable. That I am unwilling and unable to give him the attention he wants, and so therefore, it was my fault that he got mad at me and did the things he did.
He told me tonight that he begged me to spend less time in front of the computer and more time with him, and that I refused. I told him that I didn't remember any begging. What I do remember is this:
He says, "I wish you wouldn't spend so much time in front of the computer."
I say, "Well, I'm trying to get the bills caught up by posting lots of auctions. And I don't really want to sit and watch TV with you; I don't watch TV. Do you want to help?"
He hears: "I don't want to be with you, I don't want to spend time with you, I don't love you."
I have bitten my tongue more over the past three weeks than I have in the past year.
He seems to be unable to let bygones be bygones. He says he's moved on, and yet he keeps dragging the damned horse into the picture, and the poor thing is a skeleton by now, with only the memory of tendons holding it together. Quite gross. It still smells bad, too.
"You need to go to counseling to find out why you have to put your career first and why you have to be emotionally unavailable to everyone."
"Chris, doesn't that have to be my decision whether or not to go to counseling?"
"I just don't want this to happen to anyone else."
I think he thinks he means well. But every single frigging time he calls or we talk, he brings it up. "You need counseling. You need to talk to a professional about your problems. You wanted this; I didn't. It's all your fault."
Argh. On top of everything else that is causing me anxiety right now, I don't need this at all. I really don't.
He keeps bringing up my ring.
"What are you going to do with the ring?"
"Well, get it appraised, and then probably sell it."
"I want more than half of the money you get from it; I spent almost $3,000 on that ring."
"Okay... but we have to get it appraised first, and then see if we can get a good price for it."
I'm tempted to tell him to take the ring and go to hell, but of course I'm too nice. I'm not quite sure what he thinks... no, scratch that. He expects me to try to screw him. I spent the better part of the past hour trying to convince him that I'm not going to. He has already threatened to move out as soon as the papers are signed, which means disregarding our previous agreement.
I'm very tempted to let him. To get him to sign the papers, and then go. But I need to know about the truck first (LORD!!) before I can feel comfortable enough with my financial/transportation situation to do something like that.
I don't need this anxiety.
So I told him tonight that my only sticking point was the fact that I needed to know about the truck before I could move forward. That I couldn't call anyone to look at apartments or houses until I knew if I had a vehicle or not.
And he laughed at me.
"That's all your fault. You should have planned this ahead of time. You dug your own hole this time. You should have..."
Should haves will get me absolutely nothing. I can 'should have' until I'm blue in the face, and it won't change a thing. Hell, I should have stopped being scared of submissions ten years ago, but I didn't. Can't change the past. I can only change the present as I work towards a better future.
In other words, "No shit, Sherlock, but I didn't, so now I have to deal with it."
I didn't say what I wanted to say: "Maybe you should have tried to communicate with me better instead of beating me down."
And anyway, I could drown in 'should haves' if I let them get to me.
Interestingly enough, it's all I should have done this, or that, or whatever. He, on the other hand, must be frigging perfect, because he shouldn't have changed anything. Uh-huh. And pigs can fly.
(I'm not saying I don't have problems, btw. I think everyone has problems. But I seriously don't believe I need to go talk to a shrink about my 'problems'. I'm sorry.)
Dammit, I want peace. I want to wake up in the morning without a frigging cloud hanging over my head.
Argh. And it's late. Goodnight.
I just spent two hours on the phone with Chris. Smack dab in the middle of my writing time, too, dammit, so I have a piddly count for today.
I really, really, really need to find out about the truck, Lord. Either good or bad; I don't really care anymore. I JUST NEED TO FIND OUT. I NEED TO KNOW. I seriously can't move forward until I know. (Just thought I'd offer up a little reminder, there, Lord. Since tomorrow is Monday and all...)
This is all my fault, dontcha know. I should have been saving my extra money (Riiight. Like there was any extra money) since January. Oh, yes, there was that little problem with getting yelled at and kicked out of the house on numerous occasions, but that was my fault too, you know. I need to go to counseling to talk about my problem, which is, according to Chris, that I am emotionally unavailable. That I am unwilling and unable to give him the attention he wants, and so therefore, it was my fault that he got mad at me and did the things he did.
He told me tonight that he begged me to spend less time in front of the computer and more time with him, and that I refused. I told him that I didn't remember any begging. What I do remember is this:
He says, "I wish you wouldn't spend so much time in front of the computer."
I say, "Well, I'm trying to get the bills caught up by posting lots of auctions. And I don't really want to sit and watch TV with you; I don't watch TV. Do you want to help?"
He hears: "I don't want to be with you, I don't want to spend time with you, I don't love you."
I have bitten my tongue more over the past three weeks than I have in the past year.
He seems to be unable to let bygones be bygones. He says he's moved on, and yet he keeps dragging the damned horse into the picture, and the poor thing is a skeleton by now, with only the memory of tendons holding it together. Quite gross. It still smells bad, too.
"You need to go to counseling to find out why you have to put your career first and why you have to be emotionally unavailable to everyone."
"Chris, doesn't that have to be my decision whether or not to go to counseling?"
"I just don't want this to happen to anyone else."
I think he thinks he means well. But every single frigging time he calls or we talk, he brings it up. "You need counseling. You need to talk to a professional about your problems. You wanted this; I didn't. It's all your fault."
Argh. On top of everything else that is causing me anxiety right now, I don't need this at all. I really don't.
He keeps bringing up my ring.
"What are you going to do with the ring?"
"Well, get it appraised, and then probably sell it."
"I want more than half of the money you get from it; I spent almost $3,000 on that ring."
"Okay... but we have to get it appraised first, and then see if we can get a good price for it."
I'm tempted to tell him to take the ring and go to hell, but of course I'm too nice. I'm not quite sure what he thinks... no, scratch that. He expects me to try to screw him. I spent the better part of the past hour trying to convince him that I'm not going to. He has already threatened to move out as soon as the papers are signed, which means disregarding our previous agreement.
I'm very tempted to let him. To get him to sign the papers, and then go. But I need to know about the truck first (LORD!!) before I can feel comfortable enough with my financial/transportation situation to do something like that.
I don't need this anxiety.
So I told him tonight that my only sticking point was the fact that I needed to know about the truck before I could move forward. That I couldn't call anyone to look at apartments or houses until I knew if I had a vehicle or not.
And he laughed at me.
"That's all your fault. You should have planned this ahead of time. You dug your own hole this time. You should have..."
Should haves will get me absolutely nothing. I can 'should have' until I'm blue in the face, and it won't change a thing. Hell, I should have stopped being scared of submissions ten years ago, but I didn't. Can't change the past. I can only change the present as I work towards a better future.
In other words, "No shit, Sherlock, but I didn't, so now I have to deal with it."
I didn't say what I wanted to say: "Maybe you should have tried to communicate with me better instead of beating me down."
And anyway, I could drown in 'should haves' if I let them get to me.
Interestingly enough, it's all I should have done this, or that, or whatever. He, on the other hand, must be frigging perfect, because he shouldn't have changed anything. Uh-huh. And pigs can fly.
(I'm not saying I don't have problems, btw. I think everyone has problems. But I seriously don't believe I need to go talk to a shrink about my 'problems'. I'm sorry.)
Dammit, I want peace. I want to wake up in the morning without a frigging cloud hanging over my head.
Argh. And it's late. Goodnight.
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