you read that right. I am so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so done. Motherfucker. I tried. But that shit is a deal braker! Things have not been great, and everybody knows that, but they have been tolerable for a trapped, isolated mom of three preschool children who is in school full time, has a court ordered wage garnishment, and has no support network. My husband does not beat me, but that, obviously, is not a bonus. Gawd ladies, is that the best I can say? Well he doesn't hit me? I have told him I would rather. Because it is the truth. Not too long ago, I was watching a documentary on those imbeciles in the army that decided to stack Arab men in pyramids and make fun of their penises, and I will never forget the psychologist that said, " Psychological torture is so much worse than physical torture" And I could not agree more. Hes been a complete bastard lately seemingly out of nowhere, and his thought processes are starting to scare me. I don't even know specifically when it began, so I am just going to give you all a few examples of some actual events that have transpired in my home, no spin, no censorship, no bullshit. Hes been depressed. Depression makes people agitated, I get that, but he has a hair line trigger recently, and I don't just mean with me, with my kids. I have noticed accumulativly that many men posses this similar attitude that small children, their small children are brats, created by over indulgent permissive mothers that do not discipline nearly enough. Because of this, the child is a high strung, over emotional brat that acts up and because its all mom's fault, Dad is off the hook, and just shakes his head in disgust as I interact with my child, other wise known as meeting their needs as opposed to what? Getting mad at them for crying, threatening extreme punishments for the offense, (" want me to throw out all your toys?")when they are tantruming, and because I don't do that, I am the problem, so he shouldn't be bothered when dealing with them when emotions run high or they are not listening because I created this monster. I ran our entire family off in a ditch by victimizing him by breast feeding, by what he says is constantly " rewarding them" by spending small amounts of money on them, or taking them to do things like museums, parks, ect. Apparently, my kids have entitlement issues because I believe I should do things to make them happy and in return, they ( 2 years, 3 years and 5 years) should return the favor by behaving like 10 year old with low energy. Sigh. Where to begin? Want more examples of the fine, upstanding man I am married to? A couple of times over the years, hes let me know where my bread is buttered. To me, that is inexcusable. The first time he did it, he was ignorant, he stumbled apon something I told him was crossing the line. I told him after tempers had cooled and in a calm manner that under no circumstances do I ever want him to use my, no wait, OUR decision as as me being a homemaker against me and twist it into me being a dead-beat bum who should make elaborate, tasty meals and scrub a toilet daily because, shit what else do I have to do? This coming from a man who I have supported for up to a year at a time in between jobs, but now, somehow thats different. The second time he did it, I was really hurt, and thought he needed to really drive the stake through my heart. He stopped doing it. Its now a weekly subject in my home. Even though his business is dead and we are both living on student loans, he is somehow still the bread winner, and the past three years where I have not worked has been a vacation. If any of you have followed any of my posts, you would know that I have had alot of back pain. I used to have a problem with a lil OCD when it came to my house and its cleanliness. After the 50th time I power cleaned my house and ended up buying hot pills so I could function, I gave up. Small, 2 bedroom apartment, three pre-school children, one sloppy husband- it was intense trying to keep up with my standards and I *could not do it anymore*. For years, my seemingly easy going husband has protested this pre-occupation and continuously told me that he felt victimized by my issue with the home, and that he wished I would stop. Until I did. The past month, I have slacked. Yeah, I am down to two hours a day of cleaning, and well, hes saying things like, " so what? You've just given up? " when he knows I have been offered free rehab for back pain because I am becoming before our eyes, a cripple. Everything ends up on the floor, and bending forward sometimes up to 500+ times a day is not something I need to be doing seeing as I have to do other things all day long that is not recommended, like lifting kids, and giving them baths, literally everything that i need to do, hurts me. And he does not care. I have chiropractors saying I am injured, I have medical doctors saying I am injured, I have a 5 year old who says, ' no its okay mama, let me get that, i know your back is hurting." and now, to the man that sleeps in my bed, it doesn't matter. He says things all day long to my kids like, " What the FUCK is wrong with YOU?" not kidding, ten times a day. I have told him for the past year that that has to end, that that is abuse. His first offence is always to use my own logic that I said one time, completly unrelated to him that the whole concept of swearing is ridiculous. Why is poop exceptable and shit isn't? Yes, I know that he had a trashy mouth, and I probably use every explotive available on a daily basis, but I will go to my grave with my opinion that a " Oh fuck me!" When a can drops on my foot in front of a child is another animal from " Thats it, You fucking kids are out of control and need to shut the fuck up and go to sleep!" Please, pretty please, make a mental note after reading that line and tell me, I am NOT crazy! I have threatened to leave him over this, I have approached this subject tentitivley at a time where everything is peaceful, I have pulled our oldest daughter aside and asked her how that makes her feel and have seen her make a pathetic attempt to correct her father because evidently, she has more emotional intelligence than he does, and he says, " Okay baby, I am sorry, I'll never speak to you like that again" And turns around an hour later and does it. Fuck this prick. This man, I can't imagine why, has no friends. Therfore, I am not allowed to have friends. Okay, thats a huge exaggeration, but seeing that I am injured, and that all my good friends with the exception of two are in Michigan, and my love sucks, I started spending a collective few hours on facebook. BFD, right? He would have no problem if I was sitting here watching tv, hell talking during tv bothers him, so why would he care if I was chatting it up with my girls back home? But he does. And these accusations started about how I am on Facebook from the time I wake up til the time I go to bed. Not true. At all. But because he says it, its true, and I cannot talk him out of it. Watching the Sopranos for four and five hours at a time is just peachy, but when I check into facebook 8 times a day to see whats doing, I am somehow doing something to offend him. The other day while he was taking a 3 hour nap( which is not uncommmon, I do not take naps because I literally can't, I feel as if my kids are my responsibility and he shows signs of being overwhelmed which results in substandard treatment, hence, I can't because I owe my kids more than to be left with his irritable ass)he comes out of the bedroom, sees me on FB, and his face becomes really, really tight. We have discussed this plenty of times, and the crazy S.O.B when hes in a good mood, will go get the laptop and sign me in to FB and apologize for behaving the way he does. Go figure. This, here is a rich example of the hypocrisy and insanity of which is my husband. The other day, he asked me if I wanted to know what was " really bothering him". I said yes, but knew that he doesn't even know. He has anger issues ( tells me I do) and will not get counseling even if I beg. He tells me of this example a month ago, where I lost my cool with my daughter. And I did. For something petty and little and I raised my voice and banished her to her room for a whopping ten minutes and was just mad. That happens. Particularly if I am about to go on the rag, but its uncommon. I will never forget this as long as I live. I gently told him that this was an example of how he needs to get it through his head that its not me, its HIS attitude that needs adjusting. I mean, get ready to gasp, but he told my two year old son who was misbehaving that he hated him. Yes, he did. Not once, twice. WTF- asshole? He then proceeds to launch into this explanation where he admits that he is this abrasive parent that yells and says mean things and as a result, the kids do not take him seriously. And thats not entirely true, but as so many professional assholes are, my husband is Dr. Jeckyl, Mr. Hyde, and they love rolling around the floor wrestling with him and like that he'll do stupid stuff like the running man dance in his underwear with 2 Q Tips hanging out of his ears to make them laugh or walk around wearing my bra going, " Look at me, I'm mom, I have big boobies and like cats and think Dad's stupid! Here Jacob want to nurse me?" so my kids do not cowar from him or anything, but I see the look of hurt on their faces, and my five year old is quick to inform me that "Dad told Mijo he was an asshole while you were at school!" Not to mention the fact that it bothers me, so fucking quit, right? Digression, anyways Jason tells me that because I am more even tempered and do not talk to my kids that way, that when i do rarely it is scarring to them, and that he is mad at me, and snapping at my children is unexceptable. That SCARES me. Yesterday, which will go down in history for me, it began around 9 pm. This is how my day went yesterday : I got up at 6 a.m. I made breakfast for the family, I got ready, went to school, came home, he had some errands that needed attending to and a book to sell and wanted to study. I dropped him off at a Cafe, and went and had a play date.I drove back to cafe to find him gone, I came home, ending up just prepping dinner because my son fell off a chair onto his face in the kitchen and a huge purple raised bubble appeared on his head. I rushed him to the ER, had him examined ( there is no evidence this ever happened at all today)came home, finished dinner and took all the kids to Chuck E Cheese and came home. As soon as I came back to my messy home, I immediately attended to my son's desire to be nursed, because he can't take no for an answer,and traditionally Jason barks at me to shut him up no matter what I am doing and forces me to drop everything. Not wanting to piss of the God of hypocrisy and mood swings, I comply to my son's demands, and go and lay in bed with him. Jason comes in a few moments later and we are waiting for the new Intervention to come on. He seemed angry. I asked him what his problem was, and he told me that he was sick and tired of my irresponsibility. Hes mad at me, because I had not taken a walk that day,and walking has been suggested by physicians to increase blood production and help with my back. Three days or so,we talked about it,and even though admittedly, there are things I would rather do than go walking, I get sucked into my life and chores, and kids and before I know it another day has passed. Not to mention I *know* I will be indebted to his punk ass and he will consider it a favor to watch his own kids while I do something that will become recreational. I know this man. So thats how it started. As I tell him what I did today, hes smugly shaking his head saying," Your so full of excuses, you are so full of excuses.'WTF? I remember him saying that its all the little things combined that bother him, and its manifesting in the way that hes treating me. He starts this compiled grocery list of my flaws, which include how we just ate in bed and I haven't taken my plate to the sink, even though we are also surrounded by at least 30 cough drop wrappers on his side of the bed, because he eats them and just drops the papers on the floor, how look theres your lotion out, ect, ect. I guess the ten pairs of grubby sports socks discarded in the bedroom floor was supposed to be decorative? Do you see how my voice started to take on a higher pitch? Do you see how my hands could have made it on my hips? Now imagine this scene with some dude following it up with, " Don't talk to me like that." " Quit yelling at me" and turning this around on ME? Yes, He refused to admit once again that HE FUCKING STARTED IT!!! And yes, I could have what- walked off, preoccupied myself, but I get so hurt and so lost and so emotional trying to SAVE my MARRIAGE because I know its just a matter of time until i HATE him for this. This crap is now taking us to the point of no return. And its like he lost his moral compass. Hes lost touch with reality,and now hes just abusing me for sport. Is that abuse? Am i nuts? WTF? So this is somehow extended to the kitchen/dining room/living room. Hell my apt is like the size of a jail cell so we are out of our bedroom now and i am angrily cleaning because evidently with the other digs hes gotten in on me, one of them being laundry," what did you completely give up?" Because there are loads out there that need folding and I can only get this done without Jacob who is awake all my waking hours, I get that I am married to a misogynistic pig that cannot handle any mess at all, and its obviously my responsibility and I always clean when I am angry. I end up telling him that I just can't do this, I want out, I want a divorce. Hes agreeing in that 'no shit' tone because I am a bitch, a psycho who gets herself worked up and hes so tired of having to deal with me. Lots of raised eyebrows of exaggeration with that half smile like 'whatever you say, crazy' expression he uses. Anyways, the claws come out and we are in our every two or three month fight where we are now regressing to eighteen year old standards and it just becomes a battle of who can be meaner. I got the rubber neck, I got the ghetto slang, its on! Thank God my kids were asleep. There is so much anger and contempt, oooooooohhh!!!! Anyways, in the past, hes threatened to call the cops on me,and I think that is so lowly and retarded. Okay. Whatever! Call the cops. He said it and I responded with, " yeah, okay, call the cops and I am going to run and hit my eye off the side of this filing cabinet and have YOU arrested..." I go back to my dishwasher. Was it a terrible thing to say? Absolutely! Was I serious? Of course not. I mean, it was on and we had both said such ludicrous things and I was so mad because he whipped out his ' you aint' getting shit from me when you leave! I am not paying you child support! When was the last time you worked?" Telling me that because of my attitude that he was going to refuse to fix the truck and that I could do it, because obviously hes superior and likes to remind me that I am incapable of doing anything of any substance for our family. Yep, so that motherfucker called the po po on me! I thought he was faking it, but I heard him pick up the phone and tell somebody, who at first I assumed had to be a bluff, " My wife is threatening me and I just want this down for the record...no shes not hitting me....our address is.....I'll be waiting outside..."During this argument, I had braced myself and had taken a couple shots- I needed them! Jason venomously told me, " Better hide your bottle!" and went outside for them to show up! I finish cleaning up, ten minutes has gone by and I am surprised that they are not here yet, wondering if I am going to get arrested because rumor has it that if they have to come out "somebodies going to jail". I am now worrying that if Jason is capable of this, what else is going to do? What is he going to say? How is this going to effect my career in the future if I have this on my record, and of course I am feeling the stigma, the stupidity, the foolishness, the sting of the obvious that this is a derailed train and not to mention I LIVE IN A DUPLEX WITH MY LANDLORD.I go outside, with Jacob and wait for the cops. Jacob wants to go inside after 10 minutes and a debate ensues over who is going to take Jacob inside. I always have good luck with cops and know if they speak to me first, I can straighten everything out. Simultaneously, my landlord and the cops show up. Oy vei! My landlord is disgusted and starts telling them to "let her know if they need any help" whatever the fuck that means. Then, two good looking athletic twenty something police appear. On a phone call to Velma today, she called them Chads. Chads? I asked. Yes. "blonde baseball cap wearing Guido's" and thats essentially what they were. Meathead, macho arrogant pricks who were well aware of their looks and proud to carry guns. I didn't know those types lived in Portland. They give me the traditional, " what seems to be the problem here?" and then, ladies, I wish I had a camera and could have this recorded, because I assumed this was Portland, 2010. These are some of the things the Chads told me and one talked to my husband, and one talked to me and then they came back:
Jason is a man who is currently unemployed. That mean because he is the man, he is feeling bad because men are breadwinners. You can understand that, right? Good, so maybe you should expect him to be stressed out and say things that he normally wouldn't. You said you were a psych student! You can't figure that out?
My partner and I go on 3 or 4 of these calls a day. " You have it pretty good." Yes, thats right, he said that. Now, I suppose Jason is supposed to get a " I don't beat my wife" medal or something? Really, is that the standard? Is that what is "good"? Not being beaten?
What do you want? Because you know, we can't make him leave.You want a divorce? Divorce is not the answer! Divorce would devastate the kids! No, you are wrong, divorce is worse than living in a screaming, intense, angry household where dad is always angry and mom is always crying! Divorce is terrible!
I hear you saying that you have no resources, money or family, and you are 3,000 miles away from everything you know, so maybe you should try and cut him some slack and make it work then?
And, we cannot forget the icing on the cake: When I asked what they would do if their kids were constantly being verbally abused by their wife? What would you do? Do YOU tell your child you HATE them? As soon as that was off my lips, officer Chad whips his head around to the other officer Chad I directed the question at, and is smiling this shit eating grin. The officer Chad I am looking at smiles and blushes like eveidently I walked into some inside joke and now these two knuckleheads are laughing like 2 16 year old boys,and he sheepishly says, " well, uh, I uh, I only got one and ITS ( yes, its) three months old! I couldn't imagine having THREE!" WTF?
I don't know how to end this ladies, but the officer Chads offered to take Jason wherever he needed to go, and apparently, I didn't even deserve the dignity of him staying the night in a motel. He snuck in after 2 am while I was on a three hour phone call with the BFF in Detroit. This morning, he offered me coffee, and I declined. He had some stuff to and school. Hes being sacharanly sweet to the kids, like he does when he feels like being a good dad for his own gratification. He kisses each kid atop their head, and me too. I know whats coming later, and it did. If I say anything about last night, I am just 'keeping it going' eye rolling, see, see how crazy you are? He tries talking to me today, i tell him I am not in a mood for small talk, not after last night. He said something like, should we talk about it? Then I just remember him saying how hes decided to let all the "petty shit go" and then before I know it, hes mentioning the cat litter and how I don't take it out,and I am back to angry, back to violated, he can tell and hes pulling his reflective martyr act out of his back pocket and as I am defending myself and telling him thats not how you let petty shit go, hes putting his hands out in front of him all dramatically in an almost whisper, so exhausted from dealing with me, going " don't talk to me, don't talk to me, don't talk to me." Now hes gone. And honestly, I wish his punk ass wasn't coming back. It occured to me, that when he leaves now, I am happy. I have known it for awhile. And when he comes back, I cringe.
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