This life we've built together leaves much to be desired. Every day seems less like a partnership and more like indentured servitude. This house "we" built feels more like a prison every day. I am slowly losing my mind -- if it's not already gone -- and rapidly losing my patience. All the warning signs are there, yet you continue to distance yourself with your trips outside or by holing up in the home office or bedroom, or, my personal favorite, putting on your headphones in the midst of "family time." Good for you, but for everyone else . . . not so much.
If the tables were turned, well, there's no point in even speculating, because that is not reality. However, I am almost certain that me coming home, showering, changing clothes and then declaring, "I'm going out for a bit," would hardly be acceptable once, let alone on a weekly basis -- that is, if I even bothered to come home first. Oh, how I long to be able to go out on a moment's notice with little to no regard for anyone else. Instead, I have to plan ahead, create an event in the family calendar and wait for "approval." If it's not approved then, I have to consider not only whether it's worth the extra $15/hr to hire a sitter, but, more importantly, if you would agree to the additional cost. This is a partnership, after all, so I take your thoughts/feelings into consideration, even though it seldom feels as though the same is done for me. Then again, "not everything is about" me, or so you have told me 6 or 7 times throughout this relationship.
I, however, seriously beg to differ, as my proverbial cup is beyond empty, and I have nothing more to pour into our kids, you or this marriage. As I said before, all the signs are there, and unless you want to be a single dad until you find a replacement wife, I strongly suggest you check back in both physically and emotionally. Not to wave the orphan card around, but that is my life, and I have yet to begin to address my feelings about it, because I've been doing my best to maintain some hint of normalcy for you and the kids.
We're approaching the second Christmas without my parents, and this one hurts more than the first, because the numbness is starting to wear off, and the gravity of their loss -- and Gus' -- is starting to set in. I would love to be able to talk to someone about it, so I can start to heal. I especially would love to feel as though I could talk to you some time, but I am still reeling from you telling me it was "f***ed up" to talk about 7 months ago, during our last real conversation. I'm sure that was not what you meant, and you probably had no idea that heated statement would ever pop up again, but that really cut deep. It's not something I can just shove away, and I'm constantly reminded of their absence, because, like I said before, that is my life now. To cut those feelings out of my every day life would be like pretending I am not married or that I'm not a mother. Those are all important parts of my identity, and it confounds me that, in that moment, you did not understand that. But, I digress.
Something has got to give. I know I am not by any means the perfect partner, however, I am really struggling to keep it together. If I had somewhere to go, I would go there, because you are not here, and I am at my wits end. Please help me, partner. I'm drowning here.
Today marks 6 months since I lost my mother, and I still have not composed her obituary. I feel like I am doing her a great disservice, but I simply do not know where to begin. It may seem like a moot point this far out, but I just feel like it is something that must be done. Perhaps once I do, I could use it as part of the memorialization of her Facebook page. That was something I felt I could do right away, but my sister asked me not to. Again, I feel like I'm doing her a disservice in not having done so. After all, she left me that responsibility.
Speaking of responsibility, I received a check for her death benefits last week. I originally planned to save it, but The Mr. said we needed to use it to pay things off. I feel like my mother would be greatly disappointed if she knew that I gave in without a fight. She would also be disappointed in how much disrespect I tolerate, but that's a whole other issue.
Speaking of issues, how does one go about moving on after having been called crazy and having a series of F-bombs hurled in her direction after having told her spouse his actions made her unhappy? It seems like I complain often about being frozen out, and you would think we would have found a solution by now, but *NOPE*
On a more positive note, my high school graduation present arrived today!
. . .to expect someone who grew up with a different family dynamic to not only want the same things that you do, but actually care enough to make those things happen. How does watching football hold more value than finding a home church? How does one justify sitting on the couch and staring at your phone while your rapidly unraveling wife literally begs for peace so she can eat after you and your children have already eaten (and only step in to help out after she snaps, jumps up from the table and heads to the bedroom to pack her bags for the trip down south she's weeks overdue for, but still hasn't been able to make, because you can't seem to help her out by covering parental duty with your school-aged child)? How does one leave their family -- albeit for just hours, but with no notice -- without realizing how hurt and, I hate to say it, but disrespected it makes your wife feel?
Your wife watched both of her parents die in 3 months. She loved her parents, spoke to them at least weekly and actually made an effort to maintain these relationships in spite of the distance between them. They both died in their early 60's, leaving her to wonder about her own life expectancy. How does one continue to expect the same things from their life partner after she recently suffered such devastating and crippling blows to her life? Could it be because he never cared enough to ask how she is doing? How could you not even ask how you could help? Perhaps, by not asking, you could claim that you had no idea what was going on? Either way, it makes her see you in a light unbecoming of the man she sees herself spending her life with.
Perhaps she was wrong in expecting you to understand in light of your relationship with your family. Maybe, just maybe, she was praying you would tap into the compassion she thought we all had, unless you, like her, had compassion fatigue after years of being in stressful situations. Whatever the reason, your family is not going to make it if things do not change.
. . . Since my mother died, and there still is so much that needs to be done. The most pressing issue right now is the emptying, cleaning and selling of her house. The mortgage will be due very soon, and it's something neither my newlywed sister nor I am able to afford. On our end, we have spent a lot of money this year traveling during my parents' illnesses and subsequent deaths. On top of that, my dog has had a couple medical emergencies in the past 5 weeks which required extensive diagnostics, hospitalization and now we may be looking at surgery. We've spent more on him in this short time than we normally would in a year, and he still has not had his annual vaccinations yet.
My original plan was to come home for a week or two before returning to address the house and other loose ends that needed to be tied up, yet here I am weeks after that trying to figure out when I can make it back down. The main issue is rearranging The Mr.'s work schedule around our daughter's school schedule. It seems like it'd be simple, but, honestly I don't feel comfortable asking him. I always feel like I'm inconveniencing him, and I don't like to bother him, because he is not the most approachable person. I'm sure he'd think I'm nuts if he read this, but he just isn't. He seems to always have his nose in his phone or computer, and there have even been nights when he's had headphones on instead of interacting with the family. It used to bother me years ago, but he remedied that issue by buying my own gadgets so I could be equally as preoccupied. Now, it's especially upsetting, because we have kids, and 1) I don't want them to miss out on quality time with him, because the time between his arrival, dinner and bedtime is so short, and 2) I also don't want them to think that is how families normally interact. But, I digress.
There have been a couple times when he has complained -- I'm not sure if he was joking or not -- about not having free time anymore, and I have told him that I would gladly trade his inconvenience for my dead parents. This has been a very difficult year, and I have spent a lot of time away from home, but my parents died. I could understand if I was asking him to help out more, because I was going on a Hawaiian vacation or something equally as extravagant; however, I am leaving, because my mother died and I need to sell my childhood home. I know our relationships with our families are different, but I'd like to think it would be easy to recognize the gravity of this situation. I often think that, although my parents are gone, he is not. I don't want to ask too much of him, because, after all is said and done, we still have to spend the rest of our lives together. I would hate for him to become angry or resentful.
Perhaps he doesn't realize how much I am struggling. I may not be curled up in the fetal position, but "I'm pretty [explitive] far from okay." I haven't had any time to process everything that has happened in the past few months, because I never get any time to myself. In a perfect world, I would be able to "tag out" once he got home from work, but I try to run interference and give him at least 15 minutes of peace before I turn the kids loose on him. Even then, he's not "present," and I often find myself back "in." My sister says I should just tell him that I need time and just take it, but I think she's too pushy. I try to be considerate of others' feelings, and think of how I would want to be treated. Then again, she's getting what she needs while I'm suffering in silence and becoming angry and resentful . . .
… originally posted on Facebook 09/22/2016:
Happy Birthday to my beautiful mother. You are the strongest, most courageous woman I have ever had the pleasure of knowing. I am so proud to be your daughter and am forever grateful for all you have done for our family. As devastated as I may feel right now, I find slight comfort in knowing that you left us on the International Day of Peace.
Love you madly…
p.s. Thank you for the butterflies 💜
… and say what you mean. I was checking out at Publix earlier and, after giving my typical "I'm doing well" response to the cashier, found myself wondering why people bother to ask if they don't REALLY care to know the truth? 🤔 I can only imagine how uncomfortable I would have made her if my reply had been, "Well, my mom died Wednesday, and I can't seem to write an obituary that encompasses everything she truly was," or "I'm still trying to figure out how I am supposed to act after having lost both of my parents in less than 3 months," or even a simple Marsellus Wallace "I'm pretty [explitive] far from okay." 😏
As I sit here watching you sleep, and wondering if each breath will be your last, I imagine you doing the same after my stay in the NICU. The times we've shared in the nearly four decades of my life have not been "all flowers and sausages," but they helped shape who I am today, and I would not change a thing. Thank you for being a patient and loving mother and for never making good on your promise to "take [me] out," although I know there were times when I may have deserved it.
Also, thank you for being a thoughtful grand-mére (MéMé) to my kids in spite of the hundreds of miles that separate us. I wish you could have spent more quality time together in your "better" days, but I will make sure they remember the moments you shared.
I hope you are proud of the woman I have become and the wife and mother I strive to be. Miss ya madly <3
". . . not for tomorrow."
- En Vogue
"This Is Your Life"
It's funny how the mind works. Sometimes, the most random, seemingly unrelated thoughts can trigger long-forgotten memories. This morning, I set out to find a quote similar to tomorrow is not promised, and this song that I haven't heard in about 20 years popped in my head. Who knew that the theme song from "Roc" would hijack my post?
Kay Dub is a 40 year old stay at home mother of 1 fur baby, a First Grader and a Preschooler. An avid runner, marathon mom, fitness buff, sprint triathlete, and Noxgear Ambassador, her most challenging goal is becoming a Proverbs 31 Woman and "Wife After God".