My husband compared me to the kids. He said he doesn’t have a choice but to deal with them and their disabilities and help for the rest of their lives, but he won’t deal with mine. That “I don’t mean to sound selfish but I’m 37 and I can’t keep dealing with your forgetfulness and inability to do anything when I’m 50” ……yeah FML
What happens when the world realizes we aren’t who we say we are? Just wondering because sometimes I really freak out o the inside. I keep thinking since we all struggle and have secrets and shit that everything is ok. But I don’t think it is. When do we have t make those big decisions of full disclosure or leave versus stay. I hate having to put on my big girl panties and be a grown up. I hate having to decide something and then live with the decision.
So yeah Hi. Its me. Super Hero, uh to some. I can help all my friends solve all their problems and yet I am the one that needs the saving. This is not meant to be a pity party, just a behind the scenes of a women that can appear to have it all together, but totally doesn’t.
I dropped out of college. Why? Oh cause during my Abnormal Psychology I realized how fucked up I was. Or maybe it was all the sleeping around, the drinking, the skipping classes. I don’t know. It doesn’t matter. I got depressed. Real depressed. I overdosed. I went to the hospital. I went on meds. I came home. I went off meds. I started working in a bar. I met my husband. We became friends. He watched as I slept with more people. We then dated. I wanted something different. A real relationship. I was bred to believe you have to find a husband to be “complete.” So that’s what we did. We got married. I knew I shouldn’t. But I did. I went back to school. Got a degree. He made me feel guilty for that. Like he had to suffer through my education. So now we have been married for probably 12years. We fight. A lot. Its not physical abuse, but his words cut deep. It always gets worse when he drinks. Which is always. Text book verbal abuse. Sometimes I think I deserve it. I feel like its payback for all the BS that I’ve done. I almost left after a year of marriage. I got into the car and drove away. My friend, my male friend wasn’t home. So I went back. I figured things would change. They didn’t. I still kept seeking emotional fulfillment from friends, from other men, from anything. We continue to fight. I continue to fear. I justify the negative things I do because of his verbal abuse.
We now have 2 kids. 2 kids with special needs. That brings more chaos. More conflict more emotional and financial strain. Its also what keeps us together. I think we both are educated enough to know kids don’t need to grow up around abuse. I think we also want to provide them with a stable home. Yet I question our stability. I am constantly questioning why we stay together. I am constantly reminded how crazy I am yet he says he loves me. I get repulsed by him but then am afraid of life with out him. We keep fighting to stay together yet we fight like we hate each other.
So there really is no end. No moral to this story. Just a glimpse inside my life and how everyday I go out and save the world for all my friends and my kids, yet I’m dying inside for someone to save me.
You know that blog that I have? Maybe you’ve heard of it. I’ve been at it for more than a year now. The real reason I started that blog? Because The Other Guy that I mentioned here earlier is a blogger, and I spend all my time (stupidly) trying to get his attention and I wanted to impress him, so I created it. And then I dug his IP address out of one of his emails and I obsessively check my site stats to see if he reads it.
And he does; or… he did. For the last year, as I’ve been blogging away, we’re barely speaking to each other anymore, but I’ve been watching in my stats as he comes by and visits every day. Has my blog become relatively successful? I have almost 500 subscribers and I get tons of comments, but I don’t care about any of it. All I’ve ever cared about was that he was reading it. He was thinking about me at least once every day, and going to my blog to find out what I’m up to. That was all I cared about.
Until about 3 weeks ago when he suddenly stopped visiting. I have no idea why. I have some theories but I have no way of really knowing, and since we’re not really speaking it’s not like I can ask him. So I just have to deal with the fact that he doesn’t read my blog anymore and there’s nothing I can do about that.
Suddenly I’m not interested in blogging anymore. If I’m not impressing him I’m not sure I care about doing it at all. I no longer see the point in it. Maybe this is also a symptom of my depression that’s currently crippling me, and maybe it will pass, but if he doesn’t care about it, why should I?
Somebody needs to talk some sense into me…..
Hubs is taking the week off, at my insistence, so that we can have a family vacation. We were going to go somewhere, but can’t really afford that, so we’re staying home and doing “fun things” every day.
Oh, god… what have I done? He’s in a shitty fucking mood 24/7. He’s always drunk, and if he’s not, he’s asleep. He’s constantly yelling at the kids, for things like asking for more food at dinner. I can’t even stand to be around him, and there’s still another week of this.
I promised my therapist that I would cut back on the drinking. I think I might need to start that next week, actually.
My husband and I have been together for 19 years; married for 11. He’s an alcoholic. And I am, apparently, a co-dependent. That’s what my therapist says, anyway.
This has been our life, although it’s been pretty intense for about the last 7-8 years (OH! Starting from around when our kid was diagnosed with autism? What a coincidence!)
I’ve been depressed my entire life; I had an eating disorder for many years, as well. At some point I convinced myself that having a man in my life would be the key to my happiness. We met, we moved in together after only knowing each other for 3 months, and now it’s almost 20 years later and you know what? I was wrong. It turns out that having a man in my life wasn’t the key to happiness, after all.
So… I’ve been chugging along like this for quite some time. At some point I figured out that I wasn’t actually happy living this way. I got pretty fat… and I was unhappy almost all the time. Something needed to change.
About 3 years ago I met another man. We didn’t have an affair; actually nothing happened between us at all, except that I fell in love with him, and I told him so; repeatedly. To this day I’m still convinced that he is actually “the one.” He probably feels the same, I don’t actually know because he “doesn’t participate in the breakup of marriages” and refuses to ever even discuss it with me. But I know him… and I know. If I were single we would be together.
Things got pretty heated with hubs for a little while. He found out about Other Guy (actually he guessed, correctly, and I told the truth). I found out that while on the outside he appears to be an easy going, kick back mellow cool dude, inside he’s actually paranoid, almost delusional and can be very very verbally abusive.
He wrote to Other Guy and said “stay the fuck away from my wife,” and Other Guy complied. At that point I decided that I needed to try to make things work, despite everything… for my kids. They are a worthy enough cause and I needed to give it a huge effort, for them. And so we went to therapy, and things got better. They actually got really better for a while!
But… we eventually sunk back into our old habits, and we’re back to being drunk and fat. Unhealthy, but not alone. And I’m miserable. Again.
I’m depressed, all the time. I drink too much, all the time. I eat too much, all the time. I’m miserable… all the time.
I don’t want to live like this anymore. Except this time around I don’t think I need a man to be happy. I think I can be happy by myself; just me, with my awesome kids. Alone.
Things need to change, and they will. I don’t know how, but they will.
And this is where we begin……