Thirty-Five

Yesterday I was home alone while A spent the whole day in the city with his best friend, who came to stay with us for the weekend. I found a marathon of episodes on a show about people who won lotteries, and how it had changed their lives, and I watched all afternoon. This wasn't one of those lurid tales about how fortunes had ruined lives. It was just an interesting look at how the winners were spending their millions. One of the couples on an episode actually live IN this tiny-ass country town I live in now, where they won $2.5 million on a scratch-off ticket. The episodes were current, filmed in 2009, about people who had been recent winners and therefore hadn't had time yet to squander their fortunes and spiral into debt and misery again. I've only lived in three states over my lifetime, and all three states have had the lottery. One state had their own lottery, started when I was in my 20's. The next state was part of the Powerball system. The state we moved to this year does the Mega Millions- we had a recent winner two weeks ago from this shithole town, I think he won $12 million. I don't play the lottery. I don't ever carry cash, I rarely go to convenience stores, and I just don't feel lucky. A plays every once in awhile, he wins a few dollars here and there, but nothing to break into a sweat about. On one of the episodes yesterday, a guy had written down a list "if I ever win the lottery" for how he wanted to spend his money. Sure enough, he did win. I kept watching the shows, seeing how different people chose to spend the money. Most of the people on the show spent it on the obvious- cars and homes. It made me think about how I would spend such a large sum of money. Yes, A and I have had "that" conversation before, just for fun and just out of curiosity to see what the other one was thinking about. A first and foremost said all of our immediate family members would get a gift of cash from us. Parents, siblings, nieces and nephews. Or, pay off their mortgages and cars, set our six nieces and nephews up with money for college. It doesn't surprise me that A would think this way, he is deeply devoted to family and his heritage and roots. I would love to give money away to all the family as well, but then where do you draw the line? Aunts and uncles, cousins, in-laws' family members. And what about friends- best friend, college buddy, co-worker, acquaintances. You can't give it away to everyone and everybody, there would be nothing left for you. I know, how much money does one person really need? Could I ever really spend tens of millions of dollars? I have never desired the rock star lifestyle, or the royal treatment. I don't covet my neighbors' BMW or Mercedes, I have never wished to join the country club right up the road, I'm too fat to fit chic designer clothes. So, after showering the family with generosity, then what? We do have several charities that we currently support, all of them are either for abused animals or sick children. We give what we can, which isn't nearly enough. I would love to be able to help out the local animal shelters even more- I could see myself easily spending way too much money to help out animals in need, a situation my heart truly bleeds for. After that, I'm not sure. I would certainly pay off all our debt- the house, our few bills, prepay all the utilities for about a year. Next would be travel- I've always had a dream of buying a big tricked out RV and traveling across the country for months at a time, no plans, going wherever we felt like driving for the day. I've seen RV's that are little mini houses on wheels- they have laundry rooms, flat screen TV's with satellite, full-size kitchens. That would be the way to go. All our pets could go with us- travel by any other means would require leaving the animals at home, and neither of us would want to be away from them for that long. A has always said if he was independently wealthy, he would play poker for a living in Vegas, he feels that is his true calling. I've been to Vegas several times, and it's okay to visit, but I'm not sure I would want to live there forever. Maybe out in the suburbs, but that is A's dream, not mine. After all the travel across the country, it would be time to come home and decide where we want to live. I don't see us wanting to stay in this current area, we are only here because A's job brought us here, and we're just waiting out his next promotion so we can move again in another few years. So, if we had millions and didn't have to work? Where to "retire" to? A grew up on a working farm in the Smoky Mountains. I grew up on the Gulf Coast, a beach baby. Each of us escaped our lives as soon as possible. And although neither of us wants to return to where we came from, we each want to end up where the other one started. My dream is to have a cozy cabin in the mountains, enjoy the change of seasons from my front porch, have a yard filled with flowers and animals. A's dream is to live in paradise, where he can play golf every day and never fight the cold weather, walk on the beach in the mornings, and dine on fresh seafood and tropical fruits every night. We've always joked that we will have to retire in two places- a mountain cabin during the summer, and a beach condo in the winter, but of course we can't afford that. After that, I don't really know what I would spend money on. With me, probably just what I spend it on now- stuff to read, art supplies to play with, music to listen to. I don't want a private jet or yacht, or a butler, or a penthouse in the city, or a big mansion I could get lost in. A comes from a very humble background and I don't think he would be interested in any of that, either. I see that sort of thing on TV, and it doesn't appeal to me at all, I am not envious of Paris Hilton or Donald Trump in any way whatsoever. I mean, how much stuff can one person really want or need or use? Everyone wants a comfortable home, but do I need 16 bedrooms and 20 bathrooms in one house?? Do I need gold fixtures for the bathtub? Do I need a separate closet just for all my shoes? You can only wear one pair at a time after all. You can only drive one car at a time. If I had a bottomless pit of money, I think for me it would be more about what I could "do" with it, instead of what I could "own" with it. It would be about freeing A up from his 60 hour a week job, so we could spend time together, before all our time on this earth is gone. Where could we go, what could we see, how could we come together and enjoy life with each other? I'm sure every person who hits the big jackpot on the lottery doesn't think they will ever be the winner, and yet they continue to play. Me, I don't play, so I don't ever have to worry about winning or not. But maybe I should buy a ticket now and then?? My dream, every day and every night, is more time to spend with A, but as long as he has his job that is never going to happen. Winning the lottery may not buy me happiness, but it could buy me more free time to be with the man I love. And THAT would make me happy.

Thirty-Four

In an earlier post, I wrote about having an affair when I was married to X, an affair with a department manager at work who also happened to be a handsome younger man, one who was very attracted to me and I to him. The affair was the catalyst that I needed to finally give me the strength to leave X, to demand a divorce that was long overdue. Mentally and emotionally, I was no longer "married" to X, we had no type of relationship together, I hated even the thought of him. But physically we were still in the same house, though in separate beds. And legally we were still husband and wife. The affair that started at my office opened up my eyes, and made me realize that I was still a young, attractive woman and I had a future, a chance at a new life of my own making. I had been with X for so long, that I couldn't see beyond a miserable existence with him. I didn't yet realize that I could stand on my own two feet, live alone, support myself, and be happy once again. The first time I "cheated" on X, the first time I went to this other man's bed, I did not feel guilty. I felt elated. Not because of the sex itself, but because I felt free and uplifted and relieved. It was an act to break the bonds between X and I. I couldn't take it back, and I didn't want to. And I really did love this other man, even though he made no promises or commitments to me, because I was still married. And even after I told X I wanted a divorce, X continued to take it lightly, and refused to move out, thinking I was just being a silly cow and mad at him about something and blowing off steam, that it would pass. He didn't leave for four months, until I retained a lawyer, and then he knew finally that I was serious. During that time, I continued to see the other man, on weekends during the days because I would have to come home at night since X was still living there in the beginning. I could never let on to X about it, because we had to wait out a tremendously long year of separation before we could actually file for divorce. I wanted things to go as smoothly as possible. I could have easily brought X up on drug charges, to expedite the process and get a divorce immediately. But I was now living alone, my family 700 miles away, and X was just across town, bitter, in a small apartment, and angry at me. I wanted to keep the peace, I was living alone now for the very first time in my life. I was learning to enjoy it. I loved my job, I got a new pet, my parents had recently bought me a more reliable car, our bankruptcy was finally paid off, and I finally finally felt like a real adult, an independent woman for the first time ever. I learned quickly that I didn't need X- I could mow the lawn myself, could pay my bills, could take my car in and get the oil changed- and more than that, I liked living on my own, coming home to "my" house, with peace and quiet and no drama or fighting. My new man and I continued to date, keeping it hush hush at work. He lived 45 miles away, in another state, and commuted to work. Once X was out of my house, I would drive to my new love's house and spend whole weekends, days and nights, but always worried about X cruising by my house, wondering where I was so late at night. He had no right to know my business, but I was very afraid of him anyhow, of his possible reaction to me being gone all night long, of him challenging me. He still had keys to the house, and I hadn't changed the locks, like a fool. In the privacy of my own home I kept a journal about how much I hated X and how much I loved the new man. I hid it, even though I was living alone by now. But while I was out one day, X came into the house, rifling through my things, and found my journal. He took it, without me ever knowing it, and made copies of it, replacing it without me being the wiser. X did research, using my own written thoughts and feelings against me, figuring out who the new man at work was, running background checks on him, driving by his house, driving by our work to see if our cars were there. Finally, after many months, he confronted me with it and started demanding money from me! He said I was the one who wanted the divorce, not him, and if I wanted him to cooperate and go through with it, he wanted $20,000 from me! He knew I didn't have a pot to piss in, but he knew my parents had money and demanded that I get it from them, or my new lover, he didn't care where I got it. He said if I didn't, he would make trouble for me, wouldn't go through with the divorce and would drag it out as long as possible, he would bring me up on charges of adultery and demand the judge make me give him the house, my things, my money. I tried to threaten him back, telling him I would call the cops on him about his drugs, but he laughed in my face and said go ahead. He said he would break into my house, come after me, he would burn the house down around me while I slept and there was nothing I could do about it. He could kill me before the cops could even get there. I started sleeping with a large kitchen knife on my nightstand. At this point in time, the divorce was only 3-4 months away, and I backed off, telling X whatever he wanted to hear, making him whatever promises that he wanted, just so I could get the divorce. In the back of my mind, I knew how truly lazy X was, and how unlikely it was that he would go through with any of his threats. But I also knew how angry he was, and how his temper was and how out of control he could get sometimes. I couldn't take the chance. In all the time X and I were separated, the new man never came to my house because legally I was still married and we felt it was unwise to have him be there just in case X wanted to get crazy. My dad was so angry, he offered X an immediate lump sum of five grand to get out of my life and leave me alone. X refused, saying he wanted all of the $20,000 in payments of $500 a month for the next few years. I sent him one check, then a second one, and now the divorce was finally drawing near. I pawned my wedding rings from X before I even divorced him, there was no going back, no way no how. I used the money to take a long vacation with my new boyfriend. As the divorce date came closer, X now started to call me up crying, begging me to take him back. He sent me flowers at work, sent me long passionate love letters which made me gag to read them. He promised we'd finally go to the couples therapy I had unsuccessfully begged him to go to for years. When he saw that approach wasn't working, he quickly went back to his threats of violence against me. And in the meantime, the new man moved out of his house and into an apartment in another city, closer to me. When X did his "background" check, he got the old address for my friend, not the new one. My friend now lived in a gated community, with high security, and we felt relatively safe together on the weekends. I was still, of course, living alone in my old house during the week though. Finally it was time for the divorce, and it came and went without a hitch. X did not cause any trouble, and driving away from the courthouse parking lot that day, it was the very last time I laid eyes on X. But, he wasn't out of my life completely, as he started to make threatening phone calls to me, harassing me, saying that if he ever caught me and my boyfriend out together, he would kick both our asses, he would kill us. Other times he would call to brag to me about his new girlfriend, how great the sex was, how wonderful she was- was he trying to make me jealous?? I told him I was happy for him, that I didn't care anymore, just please leave me alone. I never paid him another dime, and he was filled with black hate that I was "going back" on my "word" about giving him money- I told him what did he expect, he had blackmailed me and fuck him, he wasn't getting another cent from me, I didn't owe him anything. My parents had made the down payment on the house, I had paid all the bills while he was unemployed, I had paid for his health insurance for many years including the year of our separation, and all our bankruptcy payments for five 1/2 years had always come out of my paycheck- to pay off his debt from a failed business venture. I owed him NOTHING! I changed my phone number and got it unlisted, and I never saw or talked to X ever again. He never once tried to contact me after that, and moved to another town nearby. That was many years ago, but I still feel my blood boil just writing about it, thinking about the situation. In the end, it didn't surprise me how X behaved, because he had been such a dick for the 13 years we were married. Why did I expect him to get through the divorce with any dignity and decency? He could never see the wrong that he did to me over the years, the terrible way he had treated me, he could only focus on the fact that I ended up cheating on him. More than anything, he told me, he was upset that I had "disrupted" his life as he knew it. He never once apologized for all the years he abused me emotionally and mentally, the times he came charging at me with his fists raised only to punch a hole in the wall beside my head, all the times he screamed at me what a stupid lazy bitch I was, all the times he got angry with something simple and would pick up furniture and bust it up- all to intimidate me and make me cower and make me obey him. He never saw that his behavior was unacceptable, that it had hurt me, that I had truly tried my hardest for years to make it work between us, that it had in reality, finally driven me away to find someone else, find another life without him or his fucked up ways. But I never once regretted my decision to get out of the marriage with X, even though the whole time we were dating the new man never ever once made me a promise about having a future with him. I was okay with that, I didn't ask for or expect a commitment, at the moment I only wanted to break away from X and once that was accomplished, I would worry about the future. MY future, one of my own making, one without X there to hover over me and terrorize me. And yes, that "new man" was A, the beautiful and loving and caring human being I am married to today. I think it all worked out for the best.

Thirty-Three

Today I am trying to fight the good fight, to battle against the depression and anxiety and loneliness, to wage my war against myself. My melancholy continues, but instead of allowing it to wash over me and drag me out to sea with every wave, I am hoping to dig my feet into the sand and hold steady. I have so much good going on in my life, at a time when many Americans are drowning in despair and uncertainty and poverty. I am trying to focus on all the positives, instead of dwelling on the negatives. I have so much, I must ignore what I feel- rightly or wrongly- that I don't have. Instead of complaining about not spending enough time with A, I should feel grateful that my husband- unlike many others- has a wonderful, well-paying, stable job he goes off to every day- a job that he not only likes, but enjoys. His job, those long hours when he is gone, allows us to have a worry-free existence. When he is not here, I should stop counting the hours I am alone and instead be genuinely happy that he is not here sitting around the house with me, either unemployed or disabled or ill. It has been days upon days without the sun shining on me, literally. We have been covered in thick clouds for it seems several weeks now here, no rain, just dark swirling humid clouds that cover the sky but bring no much-needed rain. Add that to the heavy dark wood blinds that keep our windows covered- and the AC bill down- and I have spent days on end in heavy gloom. I turn on every light and lamp in the house, even light candles, but the small circles of artificial light seem even more depressing and only seem to illuminate my sadness. And still the air outside is heavy, oppressive, muggy, almost like a living thing that holds me down with its damp weight. I know autumn is on its way, and with it, relief from the summer season that I have come to despise all my life. I look forward to cool breezes and bright blue skies, colorful fall leaves and apples and local festivals. Summer has long been my enemy, and this year has been the worst of them in all my 40+ years. I count the days until the seasons change, hoping that my mood with shift with the falling temperatures. Many people suffer their depression in the winter, when they stay huddled up inside, the sunshine of the shorter daylight hours eluding them. Summer has, for me, always been a time to withdraw from the world outside, where I stay as close to a fan or AC vent as possible, where I remain still so that I don't sweat, don't feel hot and sticky and gross. I've always hated summer, even though being a southerner, I have spent decades in the heat, the choking humidity that makes hair damp and clothes cling wetly and zaps energy from my body and my brain. Summer is not a friend to the chubby. But winter is my favorite time of the year, when my energy returns, and I throw back the curtains and go outside. I long for it this year, whether or not my situation has changed. Whether or not I'm employed again. Today I raised all the blinds on all the windows in the house, and even though there is no sun shining outside, it has still made this house feel less like my cage and more like my sanctuary. Last night and this morning, I have been sitting in the rocking chair on the front porch and instead of feeling so alone on this dead end street out in the middle of nowhere, I tried to find peace of mind and a calmness, taking in all the silence. I can sit for hours, and not see one other person walk by or a car drive down my street. I see no neighbors in their yards- the stay at home mommies on my block are deep inside their own caves. I see only the tall growth of brush in the empty lots across the street, swaying with whatever wind is blowing, and I am suddenly glad there is nothing but quiet woods across the street from me. I hear nothing but crows cawing, bugs chirping, frogs calling, squirrels rusting in trees and bushes, hear the chatter of chickadees. There are no traffic noises, no human voices, only the occasional hum of our AC unit kicking on. Instead of wallowing in the self-pity of isolation, I am embracing the lack of man-made clatter and taking in the sounds of nature. How lucky I am to not deal with the echo of gunshots, the screams of fighting neighbors, the shrills of police sirens or ambulances, the earth-thumping stereos of passing cars. I know they are out there, somewhere, but miles and miles away from me, deeply entrenched here in the solitude of the rolling green hills and thick forests and small family farms. Nine months now I have been without a job to go to, left alone here in this big, empty tomb of a house. Long enough to have carried a child and given birth. Instead I have been carrying around pain and loneliness, pregnant with anger and bewilderment at my new surroundings, feeling almost betrayed and abandoned, when all A did was take a new job to secure our future. But I don't want to give life to those feelings anymore. Feeling this way has been a burden for me, a burden that sometimes overwhelms me to the point that A has to pick me up and set me back on my own two feet. It is time, overdue, to cast off this ridiculous cloak of depression I have disguised myself with lately. A disguise that is so great, I can't even recognize myself on most days. Where is the old me? It is time for her to come out of the shadows and back into the light.

Thirty-Two

I am going to keep it short today, and try and not whine too much in this post, because frankly, I'm sick and tired of it. I sound like a fucking broken record. Another long day alone, it is A's regular poker night so he will be gone a total of about 16 hours today, I will see him around 11pm or midnight. At least I got out of the house for a bit today, even if it was to go to that lowest pit of Hell known as Wal-Mart. Instead of taking the direct route there, I drove way over on the other side of the town and took back roads, both to delay my arrival there and just so I could be gone from the prison/house for a longer time. God, I hate that fucking store, if I'm not stressed and depressed when I go in, I sure as hell am after I come out. I believe the WM behemoth has corrupted us all and dumbed down our society, and we have what I call a "Wal-Mart mentality"- which means we act and expect the cheap and stupid. But, it saves us money on the groceries, so I suffer the dirty shuffling people and screaming babies with snotty faces, and sullen cashiers and rude drivers in the parking lot, to go there. But all the while I'm there I have other things on my mind, like my mom's second bout with cancer right now. It makes me scared that I will be prone to it as well. She was only about ten years older than I am now when she got it the first time, and now she has it again, just a different kind in a different place. I know I don't take care of myself- I take a lot of medication and I eat like crap and I sit on my lard ass a lot, frying my brain with dopey TV, and I get very little sleep anymore. I am fat and unhealthy and depressed and beyond middle-aged already. Unemployment has only seemed to make worse what were already pretty shitty habits. Today I skipped breakfast, had a large fast food combo for lunch, and for dinner since I'm home alone it will be a frozen pizza and soda. I could just as easily have made a salad for dinner, but did I?? If I wasn't genetically prone for cancer, the way I live my life will surely up my odds for getting it. You would think that fear would kick my ass in gear to get into better shape, to take care of myself, to be more positive about life. And A, too, his habits are just as unhealthy- with his diet and lack of exercise. But at least he has a somewhat valid excuse, working 60 or more hours a week. He is gaining weight as quickly as I am, and we are both pathetically overweight and lazy. I am seriously stupid for not doing something about it, for both of us. I can't control what he eats at work for lunch (unless I pack it for him), but I can take better care of him when he is home, and I should feel the ultimate shame for not making him take control of his health. My mom lives six hundred miles away, so it's not like I can hop in my car and go check on her, I have to rely on phone calls from the family. A wants me to go and stay with her, but my dad said no, he's taking time off from work. Makes me feel like a heel, it's not like I've got a job I can't escape from. But I make a pretty sucky nurse, because I can't even take care of myself. Also today, I know it's the anniversary of 9/11 and I have done my best to ignore the news channels who will be dredging up the old footage. I don't pretend to understand how the families feel, but I personally do not want to continue to dwell on it. I remember it clearly the first time around. I watched it live on TV as it happened. I was at work, but we all ran to the cafeteria to watch it, a few hundred of us all crowded around the set in shock. I remember going back to my office, calling X who was (typically) unemployed at the time. He was still sleeping. I kept calling him to let him know what was happening, he told me he really didn't care and to stop bugging him. He never got his dumb ass up out of bed long enough to even turn on a TV. He was that much of a selfish prick. I was one of those people who sat for hours and hours in the following days, watching it endlessly on CNN into the late night. I saw some horrifying images that to this day still haunt me. I am normally not the type to get upset over something, like natural disasters or accidents, but at the time I was numb and in shock. But now, I want to move on. Yes it was awful, and look what has become of our once fine country in the years since. I don't want to forget 9/11, but I don't want to glorify it or dwell on it either.

Thirty-One

I see marriages crumbling around me with alarming frequency these days, and it makes me scared. Scared because, if these people who I thought were happy and together for such a long time can suddenly find themselves broken apart, then what does that mean for me? A tells me all the time, we are never getting a divorce, he is sticking with me no matter what. I feel the same way. But, I was married to X for 13 years and that finally, thankfully, ended. A has been married twice before, long ago when he was in his 20's. He was single for many many years before he met me, and he resisted making a commitment for awhile. We dated for well over two years before he finally asked me to marry him, and frankly I didn't think it would ever happen. Loving someone and dating someone is a whole other game compared to marrying someone. When we got engaged, we were both actually contemplating breaking up and had talked about it, but A said that one morning he looked across the empty breakfast table and realized he wanted me there, and he missed me on mornings when I wasn't at his house. Without another thought, that afternoon he went to the jewelers, had them custom make me a two-carat diamond solitaire, and shocked me with a proposal the next day at dinner. A and I married five months later, a small ceremony on the beach with just family. X and I eloped when we were in our 20's, and no one was there for me that day, and I always regretted it- it hurt my family deeply to know that they were not included on the biggest day of my life. Actually, X is the one who insisted, he said he did not want any family there with us, and I should have seen that as a red flag but I was too dumb at the time. But A is very close to his family, as I am to mine, and A actually planned as much of the wedding as I did. What man does that?? I would like to think that A and I have a strong bond between each other, but I think everyone feels like that when they get married- otherwise, why go through with it at all? I would also like to think that this is "forever", but I thought that with X, too. Last week one of my friends of over twenty years announced that she and her husband of about 15 years were separating. She said simply, "He decided he doesn't want to be married anymore." They are in their fifties, no children, both very smart people who run their own individual businesses. He had moved out of state for his business, found a house for them, took half of their pets and almost all of the furniture. She was to follow in the upcoming months, and put their old house on the market and moved into a tiny apartment temporarily while she wrapped up things at her own office. But now he's decided he doesn't want her to be with him- he will stay in his new town and she is no longer welcome in his life. What the hell? What happened? They've weathered many hardships together and never faltered, and now what changed? A's best friend and his wife of 15 years are now proceeding with a divorce- the man had to move out of the home he shared with her and their two sons, and now he is living with his mother, very lost. He even quit his job and started seeing a therapist, trying to figure it all out. Everything he ever did, it was for his family and their future, and now it seems to be suddenly gone when his wife announced she doesn't want to be married to him anymore. But I understand, I said those exact words to X one day, and although it was a complete shock to him, I had been thinking about it for a very very long time. So what I'm trying to figure out is, even when A tells me he loves me and he's in this marriage for eternity and he is happy with me- can I whole-heartedly believe him? I'm sure our friends' spouses told them the same things through the years. A and I are only seven years into our relationship, when does the shine start to wear off? When does he stop thinking I can do no wrong, and start seeing only my flaws? What would it take to drive him away one day? If I gain another ten pounds? If I spend another hundred dollars frivolously? If I go another month without finding a job? If I serve another crappy dinner, or go another week without cleaning the toilets, or keep ignoring the stink from the litter boxes? What will it be? Will he snap suddenly, or fume silently for months? I live in constant fear of it, because we've both already had failed marriages, and what's to say one of us won't screw up again. I'm sure most people don't go around worrying about their marriage falling apart, and I'm sure the thought never enters A's mind either. But it seems to shadow everything I do. I wear one of those inane rubber bracelets, like the Lance Armstrong one. Only mine has A's name on it, I've been wearing it for almost a year now, when I first felt things starting to slip away, in my brain. I wear it as an anchor, to keep me mindful in all that I say or do, to remind me that there is someone else depending on me, someone else who will either suffer or gain from my actions. Sadly I think my biggest issue is lack of action, when I have my bad days and I zone out and ignore the world around me and never get off the depressing couch. A can tell when he comes home at night if I've had one of these days, no matter how hard I try to hide it. I want to be a good partner for him, not a burden, because how long does someone want to have to shoulder the extra weight before it becomes too much to carry around day to day? I've got to find a job, get out of this house, at least then at night when A comes home I will have accomplished something during the day, I will have something to talk about when he asks how my day was, I will have a valid excuse as to why I didn't clean up the kitchen from the night before. These last few months have been the hardest in all my 40-something years, and the worse I feel, the more it brings A down as well. He blames himself because he is the one who put in for the promotion, although we made the decision as a couple. His job caused me to give up my career, my friends, my dream house, my hobbies, my old town. Now I sit around and have none of that. I still have A, but 2 hours a night on top of 12 or more hours home alone isn't enough. I would never leave A, and I don't think he would leave me, no matter what. But just because a marriage doesn't break up, it doesn't mean it's perfect and happy either.

Thirty

I've noticed some dangerous behavior malfunctions on my part lately, and I see how deeply they are bothering A. These are habits I had issues with in the past, when I was married to X, issues I thought I had grown out of with age and experience. I have found myself lately becoming overly sensitive to almost everything A says and does, and it is making both of us crazy. Sensitive to really stupid things, because A would never say anything to intentionally hurt me, unlike X who pushed my buttons just to watch me erupt, so that he could feel all-powerful. For example, one night last week we agreed to go meatless for dinner, and have "veggie night". So while I whipped up and doctored several different kinds of canned vegetables- greens, beans, corn- A came home from work and walked in the kitchen, with a crestfallen expression and said "Oh, I thought we were having fresh vegetables" and I immediately became extremely defensive. I got ridiculously pissed off, slammed stuff around in the kitchen, and wouldn't talk to him during dinner. Why? What the hell was wrong with me? Just the night before we went through a similar routine. A came home from work, and earlier that day he'd sent me to a home improvement store to pick out a few ceiling fans that I liked, so we can redo the whole house. I took photos and wrote prices down, put everything neatly on one sheet of paper, and presented it to him that night. The first words out of his mouth were "These are sort of expensive" and I became so incensed that I ripped the paper from his very grasp and stalked off. We spent that night at the dinner table in silence as well. Two nights last week I acted that way, and no I wasn't PMSing so I don't have that as an excuse. Yes, I was in a bit of physical pain with my back and leg, but not enough to justify those unseemly temper tantrums. Poor A works a very stressful, very long day at his job and comes home to me, and I'm acting that way for no reason. He finally said maybe he should just work more hours so that he wouldn't be home to upset me. I don't know why I have been so overly sensitive lately, A did not say anything that warranted it. His remarks were not a personal attack against me, although I told him I felt he was criticizing my judgement- on the fan choices, on what I made for dinner. Realistically I know that's not true. A loves to tease and pick at me, but he does it with love and to provoke a smile from me, and I've always been good about taking it and dishing it back out. A and I have always had a very easy-going relationship full of bantering back and forth with each other, and that's part of why we love each other so much. But lately every time he picks at me about something, or even when he's not picking but just simply voicing an opinion, I feel attacked and chastised. A does not mean it in this way, I know him well enough to be sure of that. My brother-in-law teases my sister about things, like her weight, but I know he is doing it in a mean-spirited way. A does not tease me about subjects he knows I'm already sensitive about- like my weight or my house cleaning- but fairly harmless things, and he does it in order to rouse a bit of laughter from me. That's what he wants most of all when we're together- for me to smile like I used to. Instead it seems like we both always end up pouting in our own separate corners. I don't want that. My reactions, I know, are quite stupid and inappropriate, but it seems like the skin that grew thick against years of attacks from X, has suddenly started to wear thin again and every little thing A says and does irritates my nerves. A tells me every day, all he wants is for me to be happy again and to feel better, and I know he would give anything in the world for that to happen. I don't understand why I overreact when this very loving man opens his mouth to tell me something. Seems like lately it doesn't matter what it is he does or says, it's always the wrong thing. Or rather, I take it the wrong way. I know I am still fucked up inside from all the years of verbal abuse from X, but you would think that by now I would know that A is the total opposite and cherishes me and loves me and places me number one on his list of priorities. Just because I might think something, doesn't mean I need to open up my big mouth and say it. Especially when it hurts the most wonderful person in my life.