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Am I to blame for it all?

16 February, 2014

That’s the impression I get from hubby.

He “goes on Facebook because I’m not talking”. He goes “into the computer (in another room) because you’re grumpy”.

So last night we had our disagreement and I said I wasn’t doing the 10km run. Hubby obviously doesn’t believe me when I say something as he didn’t set an alarm.

This morning he woke up swearing as it was 30 mins to run time and we live 20 mins away from the start. Then proceeded to play YouTube clips in my ear.

The eldest then came bursting in our room saying he’d been called into work suddenly. Hubby had suggested breakfast for us two to which I’d sleepily agreed.

So we left but not before hubby impatiently asks where his watch charger is and tears the lounge apart trying to find where he may have mislaid it.

Son dropped off after a trip of relative silence as hubby keeps going in his iPhone on Facebook, photos and email. Son chats with his girlfriend on the phone letting her know of the change of plans.

As I drive around the corner with just hubby and I he again asks, “when are you going to snap out of this?!” Red rag to bull.

Now I’m in a bad mood and make a driving error. I drive on towards our breakfast destination and I confront hubby about him going on his phone.

Things go from bad to worse. I’m driving harshly now and can see control slip. Hubby tells me to drive him home. I had been going to say hi to an old friend later. This screws up our day entirely.

I park in front of the restaurant and tell him to breakfast by himself. He won’t (he’d have to explain things to our friends – too much face to lose).

I drive off. Again angry over revving. Snappy gear changes. I hate feeling so out of control of myself as anger surges to the surface.

I remember something I was meant to collect on the way home and divert before driving to the supermarket. I don’t expect hubby to surprise me by getting the food we need.

When I point out the obvious (he has the cash) I get a 50 thrown at my lap. I get out and slam the drivers door calling him “a tosser”. He calls me a bitch.

Shopping purchased I drive on much more collected. My long fringe falling half over my left eye shutting hubby out of sight.

At home he sits on the couch (invading my space I don’t want him in). I make a bacon sandwich I half eat. I force my daughter who has stopped eating for the last week to eat the other half.

I hug her in the kitchen and remark on how much weight she’s lost. She pokes at her ribs and says it feels all bumpy and giggles.

I feel as if it’s my fault she’s off her food. Has she watched me revert to tiny portions of food and nothing but coffee to sustain me and is she copying me thinking somehow this is something she can control in our otherwise unstable world.

So I pull down more negatives down on me. I wonder should I have myself admitted to hospital but my one saving grace, coffee is disgusting there.

I wonder what it is I expect from hubby. I ask myself is it an apology? Yes. Will that be enough, an acknowledgment that what he does to me is desperately hurtful? Maybe.

Should I just give up now. He’s never going to do that. Hubby threw at me that our eldest said I’m being stupid. What hubby fails to hear was that the eldest thinks we’re both stupid and should just get over ourselves.

So now I hate being at home. I’ve hated it for a while now. Work is my sanctuary. I’ve considered not coming home and wondering where I could stay away from home. Is there a couch I could sleep on at work?

In all this I hate myself


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