Brain Barf

May contain traces of nuts.

Friday, January 15, 2010

Long slow and painful exit party

Tonight my husband got angry when I asked him not to yell at the boys. My twins were having a sleepover and the three of them were loud and age appropriately obnoxious.
He stormed off into our bedroom. Confused and WTF? I followed and asked him what was bothering him so much? As I have asked him for the past week and a half.
Because I can always feel/see it? building up in him, after fourteen years together.
Blah blah blah, this that this same old NOTHINGNESS.... I was crazy frustrated/confused and in tears from being shut off/out emotionally AGAIN and so I shut him off/out physically and pushed him out the bedroom door and locked it. I've only done that once before when I was pregnant with the twins. When he stayed out all night drinking with a friend and I spent all night puking with my porcelain friend.

Thankfully all of the boys were downstairs. Sadly my girls got to hear/see him somehow (I don't know how he did it) shatter parts of my/our bedroom door.
After the initial shock and awe, I gathered up the slumber party boys and girls and tried to salvage their night by taking them to the store and letting them individually choose what they wanted for dinner. Plus just get the heck out of there for awhile.
We came back and started to microwave (I KNOW!! but I let them choose!!) their assorted dinners and a healthy sub for us dieters.
He had packed his bags, destroyed our bed frame and left in a barely functioning vehicle.
On one hand I felt worried that he was sure to break down any second in the barely functioning vehicle. On the other, fucking fuck off already and don't call me when it does. He's an adult that makes choices.
I'm not playing anymore.
I won't be manipulated anymore.
He's played the packing bag game for the last two years of ??? fights.
I never know what the fights are about. Something minuscule sets them off.
He's replaced me in just about every way... and some ways I would like to think not, but whatever. I don't know at this point.
I'm not his "person" anymore. I haven't been for awhile.

I've spent the last six months becoming independent. Again.
I've done everything he's asked me to do and it's still not enough. I've slowly realized that I can't change enough or do enough.
The last six months I decided to do whatever I could do to make it work, but at the same time do whatever it takes to empower myself. I've opened up my own checking account, joined the gym, lost weight etc. etc.

So he's gone. I've wanted to cry and couldn't.

I've done the poor single parent thing before. I know how. It sucks in it's own special way, but so does this.


Worries for the AM :

  1. I feel crazy guilty that my daughters saw the testosterone tantrum and hope they don't accept this as a norm or part of their future relationships.
  2. What to say when my boys ask where Dad is.
  3. Figuring out what bills I can pay on my income, and hoping I can at least keep the house.

Just keep swimming.

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3 Comments:

  • At Saturday, January 16, 2010 8:33:00 AM, Blogger Miranda said…

    shit.shit. shit.

    ((Keri))

     
  • At Saturday, January 16, 2010 9:41:00 AM, Blogger Ann said…

    Damn.

     
  • At Sunday, January 17, 2010 6:31:00 AM, Blogger Liz said…

    I don't know you but your story sounds similar to my mom's (I even backread and it was crazy similar at times). This is emotional abuse and you don't need to keep suffering from it. The more your kids see this behavior the more it is ingrained in them, which isn't fair to them. Leave his ass. It took my mom until I was in high school to do it, we struggled, and while I love my dad (may not like him) I am SO thankful that she did it.

     

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