resentment.

10/13/2018 Weeks of thinking, “I wonder if blogging would be easier than writing…” How lazy, right? Well, I’ve /always been a writer.. I write when I’m happy, when I’m sad, when I’m frustrated, when I can’t find the thoughts I’m looking for. I simply need a place to vent. Much like an air conditioning with no duct; I plan to experience my life with this page. There are days when I feel so completely alone with a house full… finding comfort that a page is listening to me, hearing me, letting me be me. Thank you page!

Today is a big day for me! I have chickens hatching, (Precious little lives that I’ve hovered over for the last 19 days like a vulture!) it’s also day 2 of not speaking to my husband and a house that is in desperate need of my attention! But with all the pressing things on my plate, I’ve decided to sit here with my mountain dew and keyboard.
So for starters, me. I am a 32 year old woman with more whoas than one person I have multiple sclerosis, demanding kids (6 and 14) and a husband that can’t seem to grasp the concept of marriage. Which is what’s the object of my mind today. This morning is my daughter’s soccer game, in 3 years, not one game, practice, picture day have I missed. I ask him to take her, since I want to stay with my chicks, I’m tired and I just don’t want to adult yet today. He acts like I asked him to sever his testicle. He begins to pout like a child, trying to make me feel bad about not attending my daughter’s game over some chickens. Yet, EVERY SINGLE DAY he opts to leave this house without responsibility and do whatever he pleases until he comes home to do nothing all over again. Why must a woman feel like we must be there for every second of our kids lives, why do men feel that they don’t have the same responsibility. Like, grocery shopping or parent teacher day isn’t for dads. Excuse me, equal partners. Equal partners in life. Isn’t that marriage?! I don’t have that kind of marriage and boy do I long for that! I would love to have a husband that says, “I got them this morning, go back to sleep,” when that alarm goes off. I would love to have a husband that just offers. Offers anything. Offers his time, his help, his thoughts.
My husband was a good man; I’ll explain the past tense. We actually met in middle school and after moving away, that was that. I returned in high school to him being in a relationship, so in turn our lives had went their separate ways… I had my son and after a terrible relationship with his father, I decided to go back to school and become a nurse to support my little one and not have to depend on a man (which I had done, a very controlling man from the age of 16.) Well, I had offered to babysit for a friend/fellow student so that they could celebrate graduating, the night of the get together, I threw on my jammies and headed over to her house to keep the littles. She said that someone was bringing someone for her to meet, so she got all decked out and awaited their arrival. When she walked up to the door, I’m pretty sure my jaw was on the floor.. low and behold, the date was him. I told myself repeatedly, “He’s not here for you, watch the kids.” So the night went on, he seemed to be trying to impress, playing with the kids, talking about them going to college. Of course they were drinking and he started talking about me being the love of his life and how I left him blah blah blah. Events turned and the couple that brought him argued and decided to leave. He asked if I would take him home the next day, of course, I agreed. Funny how memories slip me now due to my disease progression, yet I remember this vividly. The kids were put to bed and he asked to lay with me on the sofa, he tried his best to woo me. But, I also knew that he was still with the girl from high school. I refused to be that girl. I told him that if things changed in the future, call me. His adamancy to kiss me was persistence at its finest. Terribly perfect.
So, life went on, he went back to wherever he came from. I went back home, to my dad’s at the time. Weeks went by when I was asked to go bowling with the couple that brought him that night. He came. We had conversations of the future, he explained that he and his girlfriend were over and that he wanted to be with me. I told him that I had to know for sure. Again, weeks. Weeks. My dad and I moved few towns over, which is close to his home place. It aligned and once he came to visit, he didn’t leave.[spoiler alert: he didn’t leave because his girlfriend still lived at his house.] I told him that I had a policy to wait to have sex. My own life lesson in an attempt to not let myself get hurt. We fished, hunted, partied, lived our best life. A truly happy lift at the time.

He has very strong family ties. His biggest role model in his life was his grandfather, the sun set on that man’s feet. He was truly the a great man. His entire family was the tight knit family I never really had. We saw each other at the holidays but never the support system I had once I became part of his family. His grandfather fell sick and ultimately passed in his arms one day out of blue. It shattered his world. This man was broken. He fell into a dark place. I had no idea until this year that after his grandfather passed, he tried heroine and relied heavily on opioids to cope with life prior. So for two years of our life, the resentment built, the lies rolled, the trust left. Hind sight makes perfect sense. The butterflies then turned to resentment and I hated our marriage.I’m sure I’ll come back to this at some point. But loving an addict is the hardest thing I’ve ever done. It was the most exhausting experience of my life. Mentally, physically, emotionally and financially devastating. It broke me, broke my spirit, it broke my heart. So, after years of arguing enough was enough and he sought treatment. ( I refused to hold his hand for that) The realization of his addiction wasn’t realized for me until intake when he told them the amount of medications he was taking to cope. How was this happening under my nose, how did I let this get here? How did I have no idea we were this far gone?!
Treatment was an eye opening experience for me. I realized that I could be alone and still live. I could provide for my kids and although exhausting, I could do it! It was so peaceful just going to bed without worrying about a phone call or a text or an excuse, a lie. Sleep, good sleep. Sleep that I needed. I needed to  know that I would be ok and for the first time in a long time, I felt just that. I would be ok. I decided that unless his actions made me happy, I would not feel obligated to him in any way. I made my mind up that if it doesn’t make me happy, I don’t need it. The kids were happier, although my heart broke with each, “When is daddy coming home?” We had structure, we had calm, it was peaceful.
He returned home after 3 weeks of treatment, the road trip to the mountains to get him was peaceful. I was excited when he came through those doors, finally normalcy. His excitement was different, he was different man. He had a nervous demeanor. The excitement faded as I realized that at this point in our lives, we were changed. We couldn’t just go back to being what we were before the downfall. Everything felt different. While he was away, I could not wait for him to come home and be the man I thought he was and now all of a sudden it felt awkward. How is that possible? Awkward sex after a 8 year relationship? I don’t recall the experience, I don’t recall the want and I don’t recall the passion. I do recall the continuation of the downfall.
He didn’t return to work, he was nervous, he was jittery and didn’t want to be around people. He didn’t want to leave the house. He didn’t want to participate in our lives. The peaceful lives we had become acquired to over the last few weeks. He finally went to the doctor and of course along with the hypertension, he was depressed. He didn’t know how to cope with life. This beautiful little life was hard on him. This life that I wanted to be so great now, was uncopiable in his eyes. He began to feel better. I encouraged job seeking… I knew he needed time to adjust but life and bills didn’t stop because he needed time to adjust. We were making it but two incomes would of been a life saver to allow be to breathe a little.
I’d get up, get the kids ready, get the kids to school, go to work, get off, get the kids, come home, clean, cook, baths, homework, bedtime. Exhaustedly, I begged for help. Help me please. If you see things that need to be done, please do them. Don’t make me beg. I needed him. Time and time again, I was let down. Coming home to the same mess, him in he same spot on the sofa. The dishes still piled up. My heart broke every day. The arguments didn’t take long to flare back up. We had even had the conversation after his doctor visit that if he needed time to learn to live this life, I didn’t mind working if I could come home to a clean house, supper, help with the kids.. All the things that a spouse would expect when supporting a family financially. I may have gotten a day or two of cleaning out of him. I would hear, “These kids need to learn to clean up, I’m not picking up their mess. None of this mess is mine.” Oh the list goes on and on. Raising 3 kids instead of one. One big argument would maybe cause a change for a week tops, then it was right back to the old ways. Dirty house, dirty clothes, dirty dishes. Same old bullshit. A lot of, “I’m gonna get a job, gotta get the fuck out of here, I’m sick of this shit.” The words are so familiar in these arguments. They are the same words every few months. Same old bullshit.
So here we are. 8 months after treatment. I don’t remember the last time we had sex, although that I know its only been 2 or 3 times since he’s come home. I’ve never worried about him cheating, never felt he would, although I’ve wondered if he would and find whatever he needs to make his happiness in her. I don’t know what else I personally can do to change our lives. I feel like I’ve tried every path, every path leading back to here. What happened to if it didn’t bring me happiness, I didn’t need it? I’ve been fed up, I’ve asked him to leave. He’s left and always ends up back to work it out. At this point, working it out doesn’t seem feasible. There is no happiness here, I feel used and under appreciated every single day.
Resentment! I am completely, 100% sure that I am resentful of the life he lives. He lives how he wants to live with no consequence. No thought of this shell of a marriage. Our most recent silent treatment came from me begging for help. Literally, begging. I felt bad at the original thought of asking him to put us first, however, now I don’t feel bad and I can’t fathom how he doesn’t. The issue is, if I need help – I have to ask countless time. I’m met with, quit rushing me, I’m gonna get it, I heard you the first time. Something as simple as, please take the trash out; ends with me asking countless times, until I’m fed up and do it myself.. Then hear, “I was gonna get it.” Fucking when? Then I’m crazy because I flip. But I’m not just flipping because you didn’t take the trash out. I’m flipping for the other 100 things I’ve asked him to do that are still left undone or done by myself.
If ANY one of his relatives or friends calls for something, he can’t get his shoes on fast enough. He goes to do the same things I’ve asked him to do here at home with no resistance to them. I can ask for a week for him to cut the grass and he sits on the sofa. His grandmother (love her to death) can call and ask for him to come cut the grass (mind you, there are a ton of grandkids) and out the door he goes. Often using my lawn mower gas to get there. If his friend calls and wants to go fishing, I see nothing but ass and elbows as he’s headed to the truck; often stopping to ask for a few dollars in gas. I have to treat him like a kid. If you feed the dogs or get the trash or load the dryer, I’ll give you a few dollars. Why the fuck do I do that? Subconsciously just wanting him out of my face? If someone comes over to get him, they say, Oh I’m gonna take him and go blah. I always reply with, “well he’s not going to do anything here so I wont notice he’s gone.”
This is not a marriage. This is not the life I wanted. This is not what I signed up for.