Fights, Arguments, Crying, Therapy, Realizations, Hard Fucking Word

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Sometimes I wish I could identify myself here, so I randomly found a picture of my lips when I’d done a lipstick review for a brand and decided hey, let me post it here. Just to bring some…familiarity or..a personal touch, to this impersonal blog of mine. I never really take any random pictures that don’t have something identifying on them, so maybe I should start, so I could at least litter the text with something more interesting.

Anyway, to my point. My husband M and I are really arguing a lot. This is an improvement in the sense that like for the first year we were married, we never argued. I would (as you will remember from my posts) bitch about him on the blog or to friends, cry in the shower or cry myself to sleep, but never actually confront him about anything that’s bothering me, so I guess arguments and fights are good.

But they’re not. I’d rather not argue.

He is really really really upset with me because apparently I am not supportive and he feels he does 80% while I put in 20% in the relationship, and it feels terrible and terrifying and really upsetting to be criticized.

I can’t take criticism. At all. I want to be praised and loved and hugged and kissed and told I’m the best person ever and loved even on my most horrible days, and I love to be the victim, the poor old me, the one who is the center of attention with everything wrong with me.

I cannot care for others.

I cannot support people when they do things that I don’t agree with, just for the support’s sake.

I am a terrible person.

I have a childlike quality to be the center of attention and to never be wrong, and it hurts me in my deepest parts of the soul to be pointed out that I’m not.

Apart from feeling like shit because he says I’m not supporting this relationship enough, he also has said that he fears coming home because of me. I don’t make him happy. Turns out, he makes these rash decisions like quitting his job before telling me is because he knows that if he told me prior to, he knows that I wouldn’t approve, so he just goes and does that shit and then deals with my disapproval after.

I am disappointed. I really wanted (and thought) to get married to someone ambitious and hard-working who’d go and work and pay the bills and I could be at home healing, doing therapy, taking my time to work on myself.

I don’t want to work. I don’t really want to do anything. I don’t want any responsibilities and I want to spend all my money on fun things like handbags and travel.

Although to be fair, I have worked. I started volunteering as soon as I got here to Miami, then took the first job available, and even started teaching English the week after from getting out of the mental hospital (bear in mind, I’d never taught before, so it was super fucking stressful to even do it in the best of situations)!! I do shit – not because I want to, but because I feel like I should – and it seems like M doesn’t feel any way about it.

I have busted my ass at this language school, working on a shitty independent contractor contract for shit money, just to say I have a job. I have taken all available hours, started tutoring on the side, I started the dog sitting business too to make money for us and I’ve stressed the fuck out juggling a million things and it means NOTHING???

Eh. I don’t know what’s happening.

I went to therapy today and as always, it was really good because it really made me think, and we talked about sex (which is what caused my last bout of depression and self-harm last week), and then M told me during out argument and talk that he wanted us to go see a professional about our sex life. I know I have a lot of issues so I guess it’s good in some ways.

He is also depressed and has a referral to a psychiatrist and then he wants to go into therapy, and luckily we now have a pretty good healthcare plan that subsidizes counseling (I think) so he can just pay the deductible. Just don’t know how we’re gonna pay for the plan now that neither of us is working?!?!?!?

Really did not fight through the abuse and rape and school and poverty and eating disorder and depression and bullying to be 31 and unemployed, living with the inlaws in South Miami, but seems like that’s where we’re heading…

Well, at least it’s warm, at least we’re not homeless, at least I am able to function to some extent in this relationship (and haven’t given up yet and ran away like I usually do).

Good night and thank you for reading.

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2 thoughts on “Fights, Arguments, Crying, Therapy, Realizations, Hard Fucking Word

  1. I was 28 when I had my first son and we lived with my mother. We had nothing. My husband found a job at a warehouse he hated. My baby spent 10 days in the hospital with a respiratory infection, but luckily we had insurance. My husband than began work with a friend who had an electrical business and grew as an electrician and eventually worked with the union. He just retired. We are ok.
    Seemed he wanted me to be out there working so he didn’t have all the money responsibility but he carried most of that weight. I did my share with other things, a very large part of that towards saving my life through therapy and dealing with PTS symptoms which made work outside the home extremely difficult.
    I heard a saying yesterday. When you eat an elephant you start by chewing on the ear. You don’t eat it in one day. Keep moving toward the things you need and want. You sound like a hard worker.

    • Wow, I’m in awe of your insightful and encouraging emotional comment. What you have accomplished is huge, looking after another human being and staying together with someone in a marriage when things are really tough. I don’t know how you did it?! Thank you for the support and the honest and personal story, I really appreciate it from the bottom of my heart. X

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