Ugh. I've been lectured at too much tonight. I'm getting really sick of this, dammit. How many times will he insist on blaming it all on me before I snap and try to murder him or something? (This won't happen, so don't worry. But I might say something I'll regret later.) Mr. Therapy, who is (and I quote) "working on his problems for himself." thinks he now knows everything about therapy and believes that I was, and always have been the problem in our relationship, and that I am a "sick bitch" and that his therapists "told him all about my little games." Games? I don't recall playing any games.
Evidently, the guy I went to go see told him everything we had talked about. "Oh," says I, "whatever happened to patient confidentiality?"
"Oh," says he, "if it concerns my therapy, then he can tell me."
Somehow, I don't think this is correct. But I personally think these two therapists are mad because I decided not to go back to them, and now, of course, I am being painted as the villain in this piece. How fun.
Not only is everything my fault, he insists that I'm too blind to see my own faults. And that both therapists think I'm addicted to the computer. And so does everyone else he has spoken to. Mmmm. Sure. I spend all my "spare" time posting auctions because I like doing it. Uh-huh. Yeah. Right. I have eyestrain because I'm addicted. Suuuuure.
I have a headache tonight. Mostly from not eating until 8pm (his fault) but also because of the eyestrain from work. Even with the glare filter it's no fun. And I did tell myself I was going to ignore the computer tonight, and just write up auctions and get stuff ready to mail.
Guess how much I got done with Mr. Wonderful standing over me insisting I was ignoring him if I concentrated on auctions instead of his venom. *sigh*
Oh, yeah. Tomorrow should be interesting. It would have been/still is, really, our third anniversary. Perhaps that's why he's so bent out of shape.
I need this to be over with asap. I'm writing up more auctions tonight, going to the PO tomorrow (again) and getting my inbox emptied, because I have messages I need to answer ebay-wise, and I don't really want to start getting negatives for being slow to reply or to ship.
Sheesh. Not to mention that we have a big conference for work on Friday, and my days are filled with getting ready for that. Another joy.
All I can do is take one day at a time. Get as much done as I can, and move on. Make as much money as I can, and move on. Get a new job, and move on...
I wish money grew on trees.
Evidently, the guy I went to go see told him everything we had talked about. "Oh," says I, "whatever happened to patient confidentiality?"
"Oh," says he, "if it concerns my therapy, then he can tell me."
Somehow, I don't think this is correct. But I personally think these two therapists are mad because I decided not to go back to them, and now, of course, I am being painted as the villain in this piece. How fun.
Not only is everything my fault, he insists that I'm too blind to see my own faults. And that both therapists think I'm addicted to the computer. And so does everyone else he has spoken to. Mmmm. Sure. I spend all my "spare" time posting auctions because I like doing it. Uh-huh. Yeah. Right. I have eyestrain because I'm addicted. Suuuuure.
I have a headache tonight. Mostly from not eating until 8pm (his fault) but also because of the eyestrain from work. Even with the glare filter it's no fun. And I did tell myself I was going to ignore the computer tonight, and just write up auctions and get stuff ready to mail.
Guess how much I got done with Mr. Wonderful standing over me insisting I was ignoring him if I concentrated on auctions instead of his venom. *sigh*
Oh, yeah. Tomorrow should be interesting. It would have been/still is, really, our third anniversary. Perhaps that's why he's so bent out of shape.
I need this to be over with asap. I'm writing up more auctions tonight, going to the PO tomorrow (again) and getting my inbox emptied, because I have messages I need to answer ebay-wise, and I don't really want to start getting negatives for being slow to reply or to ship.
Sheesh. Not to mention that we have a big conference for work on Friday, and my days are filled with getting ready for that. Another joy.
All I can do is take one day at a time. Get as much done as I can, and move on. Make as much money as I can, and move on. Get a new job, and move on...
I wish money grew on trees.
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