Continuation

It's been a while. Well, Bill quit his game. For three months. And they were the best three months of our marriage. Well, the best three months in a long time, I guess. Then he started playing again.

Tonight he got mad at me. Because I was using the internet on the "other" computer (the lesser computer, if you will-if he's home, he uses the newer computer), and it was slowing down his game. Stupid game.

And I've been sick. Heaven forbid that he should step up and take care of the kids, or help take care of me. Oh, no. I get to do all of my usual crap while feeling like crap. What a jerk. He even has this week of work off. I can bet a billion dollars what he'll be doing the whole time. Not spending it with me. He'll be spending it with his first love-his game.

Why, why, why?

Frustration

I have been so angry at Bill this last week. And I don't even think he knows it. Well, I'm sure he's somewhat aware of it, but either he doesn't care to know or doesn't realize the extent of the anger and frustration.

I've mentioned before that Bill plays an online game. And honestly, I feel like it's replaced me in our relationship. He's played for about a year now, and he'll get more and more deep into the game, where he spends every waking minute at home on this game. I'll bottle my feelings, hope that he gets sick of it, and then I end up exploding at him because I'm so tired of being ignored. He apologizes, cuts back on his playing for a little bit. And then it creeps back up. And the cycle continues.

For a while we had a schedule; he would play certain days and then we'd do something as a couple or a family, or he'd do something different. But one day, on the day that he wasn't supposed to play, he said, "I don't care." And then kept playing. It was like a slap in the face. He might as well have said "I don't care about you." Because that's what it felt like. Again, an apology that night.

But actions speak louder than words.

He says he's sorry, but then goes right on playing, right on ignoring me and the kids.

The week before this last one he didn't play at all. It was probably the best week I've had in the last year. Granted, he was sick, so he didn't do much of anything, and I basically had to take care of him. But he wasn't playing his stupid game. Last Thursday he started playing again, and hasn't stopped. He told me today he wasn't going to play tonight. I don't believe him. Because last night he was only supposed to be on for an hour, and he was on for three.

Honestly, I can't live like this any more. I don't want it to be down to choose me or the game, but I'm just so frustrated. It's turning into me being angry with him about more than the game. I feel consumed by anger and frustration toward him, and that's no way for me, or a marriage, to function.

Oh yeah. He doesn't ignore me when he wants sex.

His actions remind me of his mother. She's the epitome of the phrase "the road to hell is paved with good intentions". She'll say she wants to come to visit, and regrets not seeing her grandchildren as much, but does she come to visit? Nope. He's said before "I'm sorry I'm such a crappy husband." But then he doesn't do anything about it. Instead he gets mopey, acts all "I suck", and then...quits. One night he said, "You need a better husband." And I agreed with him in my head. Now, the last thing I want is a divorce. But our marriage as is? Not working whatsoever.

I went and talked to our clergyman about it, the day he said "I don't care". The clergyman offered some good advice, telling me that I need to act with love instead of anger. I need to entice him with fun things to do with me or the family. I tried it. On Monday there was a Christmas concert going on that I had heard of. I said "Let's go as a family". He said, "No. You can go and take the kids, but I'm not going."

I just keep wondering where we, or I, went wrong. And I don't know what to do. I know I should act with love, but so much of me wants to act in anger and attack him and fight to MAKE it my way. I keep wondering if we should see a marriage counselor, but we have no money for something like that. I don't want to give up on us, but I'm tired of pulling and pushing and trying for our marriage when he doesn't put forth any effort. I think he thinks that because he's the breadwinner, that that's all he has to contribute to our family. I feel like we're drifting more and more apart. He says, "The problem is, we have no interests in common, so how can you expect us to spend any time together?" And I say, "We need to find common interests." But then he pulls "the last thing I want to do after being gone all day from home is to leave home again".

Do any of you Constances or Constance readers have any advice for me? Please help.

Blah

I've noticed that my pink apartment posts are really scatterbrained, and not really thought out. They may be hard to follow. Sorry about that. On my other blog I think things through, and read my posts about 20 times before posting to make sure they make sense. Here I'm just...spewing. But really, it's mostly for me to just get it out anyway. Oh, and really, I am a happy, easy-going person. This is like...my empty forest that I can yell into and no one can hear it or get offended.

Well, I'm off the anti-depressants now. And I've been in a funk since. Just weepy about everything. And more snappy with the kids. Not as bad as before, so I hope this is just my body getting used to being completely off. But we'll see.

Bill and I got into a huge fight on Sunday. He's a online gamer, and he's been spending way too much time online. And I feel threatened, and I feel like he does it because he doesn't want to be with me or the kids, that his online buddies and online fake life is better than his real one. And he insists that that's not it, but how can I help but feel that way if that's the reality of the situation?

Anyway, we talked about it, and he said he'd scale back on playing. But he's been on nonstop since. Honestly, I want to say "me or the game?" I need to be more mature about it, but I don't want to be a doormat, either. Ugh. You know, if I had a hobby that he detested as much as I detest his, I would quit, for him. But men are way too selfish for that. Or maybe it's just Bill, but I think most men are like that.

Christmas is coming. And I keep stressing about money. We're not planning on getting anything for each other, because we have made a few large purchases throughout the year. And we're only getting one toy for each kid and a couple of DVDs, and that's it. I don't even know if we'll be able to afford that, though. I mean, we can pay our bills, but there's no wiggle room anywhere, either. If I were better with money, I'd set some aside every month to accumulate for Christmas, but I don't.

I'm sick of having debt, but we keep getting in deeper. I pay so much on the credit card every month, but it's not getting paid off, it's just either stagnant or slowly getting larger. Ugh. So I kind of have this twisting, churning feeling in the pit of my stomach whenever I think about our debt, and about Christmas. And someday I want to take the kids to Disneyland, but at the rate we're going they'll be 30 before we can afford it!

Well, I think that's it for now. Just wanted to complain for a bit.

Retracted

I spoke entirely too soon last post. That night I felt like I was going crazy. And this last week has been up and down, and just plain hard. But it could also be PMS kicking into gear at the same time.

Yesterday Bill promised he'd do the dishes. And of course he didn't. And instead of me blowing it off because he was tired from work, or whatever else, I took it very personally, that he should help me out once in a while, that I was super tired and already doing 20 other things. And then my head spins this whole martyr speech, about how I'm a slave in the house, how he doesn't love me or appreciate me, how he's only interested in me because I give him sex, and how I should stop having sex with him until he appreciates me for the other things I do for him and the kids, etc. etc. etc. This speech spins in my head about once a month for a few days. My classic PMS symptom. Will I ever verbalize the speech? Nope. Because then Bill will give me the look of "Oh, you're PMS-ing, aren't you, poor dear? Well, then, this doesn't really matter." Drives me crazy.

Thing is, PMS gives me the guts to actually speak out on the things that bug me all the time, that I normally let slide. I really wish I could be more blunt. Blunt people bother me to an extent, but in a way I admire them at the same time, because they say the things that I feel like I can't to others, because then I'd be just rude, and they'll hate me for life, but the blunt people? They can get away with it.

Oh, and I'm not voting today. Not because I don't think it's important, but because the thought of packing up my kids to go stand in line, and not knowing if I can register to vote the same day as voting, is overwhelming to me. That's a classic depression/weaning off the drugs feeling, I think.

I have a couple more weeks of weaning, and then I'll see how things are for a few weeks after that, and if I slip back into depression, then I'm going to get some help again, whether it's drugs or a therapist, or whatever may end up working. Pray for me, Constances!

Returning

Well, I've been slowly tapering off my anti-depressants. I've been taking one every other day, then in about a week or so I'll go every two days. The first day without was awful. I don't know if that was solely because I wasn't taking the pill, or if it was somewhat of a placebo effect (I'm angry because I didn't take a pill, not angry because I'm angry). I was snapping at the kids, getting frustrated over every little thing, and of course angry at Bill.

The next day was a little better, and the next day off was pretty good as well. Today has been on and off with the kids. I was making my son's Halloween costume, and he wasn't holding still, and I got really mad at him and threatened to throw it away and that he couldn't go trick-or-treating. It really wasn't fair of me to do that, because he's so young, and he just is a wiggly little guy anyway. But it bugged me, more than it should have. But I haven't cried yet, and I haven't started throwing things. (I throw things and slam doors when I'm angry. It's never anything breakable, or at anyone.)

Someone in the comments asked why I was going off if they were working well. My doctor assured me that this type was only meant for the short-term. And, to be honest, I don't want to be on anti-depressants. Not that they don't help people out, because obviously I've seen that they've helped me out. But I don't want to have a crutch, per se. My entire family has been on or is still on anti-depressants of some sort, and the minute they don't have their pill they flip out. (Placebo thing, I think.) I don't want that to be me. And so far, I think I'll be okay off soon enough. I don't have so much pride in that if I need the help again I'll not take it, but the simpler my life is, the more my body is controlling itself without outside help, the better for me.

I just remembered: I forgot to take my pill today. I take it as a good sign.

Anti-Depressants

I've been on an anti-depressant for a little while. I didn't want to go on it, but my doctor thought it would be best. It has really helped me out, and I feel normal again. But going in I knew it would be a temporary thing, and now is the time to start tapering it off.

But I'm scared. Now that I'm "normal" again, I'm not sure I can be normal without it. My doctor assured me that the first few days of going every other day with the anti-depressant would be a little off, but then my body would kick in and take over and I'd be back to normal.

I told Bill about it, and I think he's a bit scared as well. He saw how I was before the medication: the crying over everything, the anger towards my children and him, the frustration, the wanting to just lie in bed in the morning and at night. And I remember it all too well, too. I want to feel like this, but without the medication. Will my body be able to do it?

I'll have to keep the pink ladies posted. The day after tomorrow is when I start tapering. Wish me luck.

Retrieved

I took this post from my other blog. I never actually posted it, because I knew the comments I'd get. Or the lack thereof. I had simmered it down a bit (a lot) for that blog. I just wanted to put it here, because...I don't know why, I just did.

This post is going to be very stream of consciousness. And honestly, I don't even know if I'm going to post it, because I'd probably offend a lot of people. You know, all 20 that check out my blog.

It seems like I have my own invisibility cloak. And it seems that I constantly have it on. Because a lot of times I feel like...I'm not even here. That no one notices me. I'm not saying I want to be famous and have paparazzi following me around, because I don't. But just a little recognition. Or maybe some friends would be nice. You know. Someone that would miss me if I died.

Because right now, if I died, I honestly don't think anyone would notice. Or care. The kids would notice when dinner wasn't made for them. And they wouldn't care so much that I'm gone, but the person that gets them the food and changes their butts etc. is gone, and who cares that it's mom? Just as long as it's done, that's what they care about.

And what about my funeral? Who would come? My family, I think. If they could fit it in. If it wasn't too inconvenient. I really couldn't say for Bill's family. Other than that... Like I said, I just...don't matter to anyone. I think the reaction to my death would be, "Huh. Who's gonna take care of the kids now?"

And really, I only have myself to blame. I'm the introvert. Just barely, I've started to get to know people in my neighborhood.

I was way more social in college. I knew everyone in my complex; my roommates and I would throw parties all the time. We would get 10 or so calls on Friday afternoon from other groups of people wondering what we were doing, because people wanted to hang out with us. We'd basically have 20-ish people over every night until all hours. For the first time, I truly felt cool. But then, come to find out, my roommates actually didn't like me at all. I thought we were all really tight, awesome friends, but in reality they could barely tolerate me. It sucked to find that out.

And pre-college...I kind of wandered my whole life from group to group. Not really fitting in anywhere. You know those girls that become friends in 1st grade and are still friends at 70? That's not me at all. I have one friend that's been my friend since I was 14. But we've gone to different schools and lived in different cities since then. So, am I a "she's nice from a distance and all..." kind of person? Perhaps so.

I'm not trying to dis the girls that are my friends. Well, at least the girls I consider friends. But what if it's college all over again, where I really like them, but they don't like me? Where they're just too nice to say, "Uh, leave me alone"?

Back to the whole funeral thing. What would even be said? "Um, she was a mom...and, uh..." I don't even think an adjective could be placed in front of "mom", like "great mom" or "good mom". I'm just kind of an average mom. And right now, not even liking that title all that much. This weekend just...pushed me over the edge. I seriously contemplated grabbing my purse and heading out the door for a couple of days, because I'm so sick of cleaning up messes and dealing with whines and fights amongst the kids and...just all of it. And sick of being ignored by my kids and my husband, and life. I'm the servant. The slave. As long as the house is clean, the meal is cooked, the laundry done, the kids are fed, then that's it. Like I said, invisible.

I'm tired of giving. I don't ever "get" in return. Just a "thanks" or an "I love you" or a hug or something. Or "Why don't you sit down and I'll cook tonight?" or a "Can I watch your kids for a while?" Something where it can be about me for once.

I've become so invisible I don't even see myself. I know I'm somewhere inside of me, screaming to get out and be liked and be noticed. But I'm buried, beneath housework, and children, and my insecurities. So, where am I? What am I doing wrong, where I feel like a slave to my husband, kids, and house? Because I don't think that every mom feels like this.

And then what if I reach out and try to be friends with people, only to find out later that when I leave the party or whatever they roll their eyes and talk about how annoying/boring/awful I am? Basically, I'm friendless, personality-less, and kind of unhappy and disgusted with myself at what I've become, what I've made myself into. And I don't know how to change it, how to like me again, or how to get other people to like me, including my kids and husband.

Nobody likes me, everybody hates me, guess I'll go eat worms... >:P.