January 16, 2002

• Guilt.

  
  

  He's feeling like an ass. He's managed to turn it all around so that he's sorry I can't be what he wants, but he loves me so very very much, that he'll try and put up with it. Even though he is unhappy.

  
  

  He doesn't know what a 'good husband' is but he's trying, so very very hard and he knows he's failing.

  
  

  He is hurt and upset because I am still very cool toward him today. After all, he apologised.

  
  

  He can't understand why I am angry about his comments about my mental fitness.

  
  

  So I had post-natal depression. So I got help. So that was a year ago and I am well over it.

  
  

  He doesn't want me to do the 'wifey' thing since I can't be happy doing it. (subtext: might go loopy)

  
  

  He'll cope. He'll struggle through. He'll soldier on.

  
  

  WHAT THE FUCK?

  
  

  Honestly. This kind of childish melodramatic passive aggressive shit just makes me boil.

  
  

  I want to smack him with a clue by four and send him to his room. I refuse to be manipulated like this.

  
  

  I told him, he doesn't get a 'do over'. He doesn't get to say he didn't mean it and he'll never do it again, because he says the same old shit every time he has a tantrum so he does SO mean it. And he WILL do it again.

  
  

  This morning at 7am, he was moping around, trying to take his shirt away so I couldn't iron it, telling me I didn't need to make his fucking lunch. Looking all hound-doggy when I told him I'd do it, because I said I would.

  
  

  Oh - the deal is, I'll do his wifey-wifey shit for 6 months. At the end of that time, if either of us are unhappy, we separate.

  
  

  Why don't we break up now? Cos underneath all this stupidity is a good man who is having a terrible time growing up. That was fine when he was all I had to nurture and mother, but I have an ACTUAL kid now, you know, a REAL one - not a pretend one.

  
  

  And I am sick of him throwing the same old 'you don't iron my shirts, you don't tidy the house, you don't make my lunch' shit he trots out every time he gets depressed.

  
  

  I wanna take that away from him and see if that will force him to examine his life and get some fucking direction that isn't provided by me.

  
  

  And his anger needs to be worked on.

  
  

  Sure, take it out on me, instead of working it out yourself - it's easier.

  
  

  Anyway, today is stage 2 of our argument pattern - the 'poor me, you don't love me anymore' stage.

  
  

  He's right. Not the way he's been behaving since the baby was born. He's had 2 years almost to get with the program and he can't.

  
  

  What an ass.

  
  

  (And hey, I spit a nice recent ex-smoker loogy in his lunch, pretty mature of me, huh? That's for twirling your finger beside your temple and telling me I can't cope like normal people, you PLONKER.)

  • 10:12 pm
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