Today I bare my soul, not a body part.
I am really sorry that I am being a bummer, so unlike the goofy giddy Doo Dah, but if you have read my blog for some time, then you will know the situation. Just as I think things are going better between he and I, because I really am trying, things go from good to bad in a millisecond.
I have recvd alot of emails about this, and I also notice that nobody comments on the blog when I am sour. Music is my soul, and when I am blue, it comes out in various songs that I know, my crying songs as I call them. I just cannot bring myself to blog anything positive or upbeat. Hell, I havent even blogged any photos lately. At one time, I posted a photo once a day. So, I attempted to do a few photos lately, and I cannot even get joy from that anymore.
So, sans the fake country fried accent, because most of you know I put that on just for kicks and giggles to make fun of where I live at the moment, I will try to talk. I really am not a country person, I was born and raised and lived in the city until I moved out here to the sticks 3 yrs ago.
I conversed with Memphis Steve a week or so ago on email, and he made alot of sense, from what I told him. This is partially clipped from that email, and I thought that I might put up that because it spilled so easily from me. I told him that I probably would do this. I just annot always find the words to express ME.
This is my second marriage. My first ended because he became a hateful drunk and then that escalated into abuse. Mental and physical. He kept me at home, only gave me how much money I needed to buy diapers and food, told me I was stupid and worthless. The bad shit always happened when the babies werent around, and it wasn’t too bad, a bruised upper arm where he liked to punch me, a cigarette burn on my theigh, a telephone upside the head causing bruised ear and slight chipped tooth, really no huge OMG SHE IS AN ABUSED WOMAN look to me. The one Saturday afternoon he sat on my chest, stinky drunk at noon, slapping my face and poking me in the chest with his finger, choking me in front of my 2 year old autistic son, I crawled to another room, dialed 911 and looked him dead in the eye and said YOU ARE SO FUCKING OUTTA HERE.
Ok, deep breath. Like, I really never ever tell that story. Being Catholic, I believed in til death do us part, and put up with alot many years for the sake of helping him. John Boy was something that I thought would help, be a family man. No, that ended up to be "stressful" and he had to "pull more weight at work" which meant more stress and more drinking. Ellie was a result of a drunken rape. I dont even want to get into that, because that happened more than that one time, so I would just lay there and get fucked and stare at the ceiling, tears in my ears. Do what I was told, no pain.
My current husband and I have known each other since 1982. He came to that wedding when I married the idiot. We had been friends for a long time through work. After my divorce, I went back to school, bought a little tiny house of my own and worked full time while raising the 2 babies. One day, he called me up and asked how I had been, he hadnt heard from me in a while. So we gabbed forever, caught up, laughed. We long distance dated for 6 months, I would fly to Memphis or he would fly to XXXXXX, then he finally asked me to move to this Godforsaken place and be with him. A 20yr pal, now a romance, a genuine good guy, never says the word fuck, everybody loves him, admires him, good job, good man, never raises voice, drinks but not more than 2 to 3 beers so has fun. Best friend. How could I resist?
He is a procrastinator, plain and simple. And beyond a penny pincher, he would actually try to squeeze blood from a turnup. He was a 40yr old bachelor, lived on his own, never married. I spoiled him, I guess, because I am a caregiver. A do-er. I am superwoman, cook clean single mom of 2 kids (1 being autistic) work full time furthering my education at night sitting on the washer/dryer at 2am studying because the noise/movement keeps me awake and I still spend as much time with my toddlers as possible in the bathtub and reading books and they cook and clean with me cause I make it a game. So I move down here and I end up spoiling him. He does nothing. Now he comes home, changes, shits, washes his face, grabs the paper, sits and waits on dinner, eats, watches tv til 11, wants sex when I drop from going nonstop since 5:45am.
Not that the sex is bad. After the first asswipe husband, it took me a while to be able to enjoy it, and he taught me well. Now, he seems to have reverted to goofy play, tickle, be weird, no love love love anymore. It is giggle giggle giggle. He says "mmmm, my sweetie". Never "I love you". I feel like we have gone backward in time. it doesnt feel like lovemaking anymore. I again am staring at the ceiling. He gets pleasure, I do not.
The move out here to the 20 acres has been fun, but we bought this big ole house with a lot of renovations to do, and here it sits, been painted inside, but that is it. Half done projects everywhere. Shit stacked up in every room still, 3 yrs later. He bushhogs the overgrowth from the previous owner, then jumps to another side of the property, and then it all grows back before he gets back to it. Same with the inside of the house. Everything is half done.
So, I sit here, working my ass off owning my own business, day in and day out. I am tired. I am emotionally drained. I am bored. We do NOTHING. It costs money, which needs to be shopped to death before a purchase made. Eat out? Costs money. To take me out, including birthdays and occasions, we need to see what coupons he has or gift certificates from vendors. Imagine asking your wife to pick a place to eat out on her birthday - only pick just from these coupon options.
And, the 5yr wedding anniversary (I have been living here 10, getting married was a procrastination too, I had thoughts that maybe I wasnt good enough to marry, then I think he just settled) was Apr 7, and as I told you then, and I tell you now, still no gift.
I am sad. I am getting fatter by the second because I eat to stave off depression. I now drink every night, partly to relax and partly to feel good. It seems to be the only time I smile. He rolls his eyes at me doing that lately, but I decide fuck off. I don’t wear makeup anymore, no need, dont go nowhere. Cut my hair, all of us, because he has no time to sit in line at a Supercuts for a $7 haircut and wouldn’t pay more than that to get an appt. Ellie's hair is butt length and straight, so I trim it too. Me - salon? You have got to be kidding. Cost is considered astronomical. So I cut it straight across the back and call it a bob.
I want a life. I want to be happy. I want to have fun. I want romance. I heard an old song on the radio from when I was 13 at the roller rink, skating to couples in the moonlight.
"Girl I know its been a while. Guess you'll be glad to know, that I learned how to laugh and smile" It made me laugh the other night because my very first crush and I skated to that song. My first kiss. Bobby! LOL so, I grabbed him and put my arms around his neck and I placed his hands on my hips, you know, 13yr old dancing, and just wanted to hold him close and sway and feel him against my body. He got all goofy as usual and made it a joke, humped and swayed fast and I just walked away and said forget it and poured another glass of wine.
He doesn’t have a romantic bone in his body. He doesn’t think of me, like what I might like for my birthday. My wedding ring, for example, we discussed it, he knew I wanted something a little different because that is just how I am, I am an artistic person. I wanted different, maybe square stone and my light green birthstones on the sides. I didn’t care the design, just make it different than anybody elses. I got a round 1 carat solitare, with diamond crusted bands on both sides very old fashioned and traditional, like our Mommas would have got. Its what HE wanted, not what I wanted.
Being Catholic, I really do not want another divorce. I wouldn’t want anything from him, cost wouldn’t be a factor in divorce, we would agree on things first then go to 1 lawyer. I did the rough one the first divorce. I have been depressed about this for years. Then we move out here to nothingville. I am lonely. I want to go home to XXXXXX. I hate Tennessee.
Ok, I have pounded on this keyboard long enough, I am probably boring ya'll to tears. Sorry. I just don’t know what to do, and this seems to be a place where people spill feelings, comments come back as to what I should do. I have been here since 1996 and I miss home more and more every day. I hate to uproot teenagers, now they have accents and move them back to XXXXX where they will be made fun of, then there is school. Half asssed edufuckingcation here in Tennessee, they would have to go back a couple of grades to catch up to the kids in XXXXX.
Mps Steve told me to go to counseling together. Thing is, I have tried to talk to him. He just doesnt think he does anything wrong, he thinks he is the perfect catch. It is his upbringing, he was the miracle child, the boy to carry on the name, he was told everything he did was wonderful and perfect.
Aw, I am ready to leave tomorrow, but you know the real kicker???? I dont want to hurt him. Doesnt that SUCK? he is such a good friend, that I cannot imagine hurting him. Even for the better of me.
So, I sit here and cry over songs that explain my feelings better than I can.
