His House, His Rules

I don’t pretend to be anything I am not. I don’t engage in games trying to take from one another I simply call it out as it’s get played. Those that like to twist and never play by the rules are the most put off by me it seems. What you see is what you get. I have always worn my heart on my sleeve. We forget how powerful we are as humans. Everything we need to survive is kept deep down inside of us. It is the last thing we keep alive. Our essence of who we once were or who we aspired to be always hopes that we would return back for them one day. It gets harder though the more lies that fly by as we learn to be superficial and not one with the Earth.

I remember at 35 just moving to Calgary and hating everything that I was. Not many friends. A loose drug problem, still. And I just couldn’t get my own two feet on the ground. Ya my bills were paid. There was a period where I had 3 jobs. My cats were my only constant. It was almost like I was working to keep them fed. I wanted to find somebody. I tried. I was on every loser’s radar as I was frequently reminded how old I was. To them I was like get bent buds just go to hell. Although I felt desperate I still had limitations. I remember walking by this Angel store and I was drawn right in. What I bought on two separate occasions were these love candles. They came with a message and when burned they were supposed to help guide your soul mate to you (or something like that). There was a point where I thought it worked but let’s be real I still believe my heart can never be tamed. Then came screaming my 3 pound little miracle and my heart has never ever been the same.

There is love lost between me and my husband so when I make decisions I never factor him in. Not anymore. He lost the right to have any sort of input when he does all the things that make my mental mind snap and I feel that he is doing it on purpose like he wants me to fall from grace and not go back. What I feel is absolute hysteria as I think to long on all points. They (and by they I mean him and his sister) are actually very, very mean. When they don’t get their way they are like angry starving little bears. Trust me when I say this but when trouble is a brewing you need to head for the highest hills.

I am coming off a cocktail of drugs that my Doctor believes maybe impossible to quit. My pharmacist confirmed that when I took my latest prescription in. In a month I went from 300 mg of Effexor and now I am taking 75 mg. I will take 75 till next Tuesday. Then to 37.5 for two weeks. Then 37.5 for 3 days for two weeks. I meet with her in the middle. I know that my emotions may be off the wall. When my husband isn’t around life has never felt so wonderful that I am reminded of what I am fighting for. So sitting in front of my Doctor, one who is actually listening, I decide to be brutally honest. I tell her my anxiety is highest when my husband is around. To the point that I am physically sick from all the worry. No matter what I do in my day my husband will be always mad. My son asked me once why Daddy is always mad at you. You see it truly isn’t that simple as just leaving this house. We are a family after all so I am just sitting back bidding my time. I told her I was unsure if what I was feeling was me being sensitive from past abuse (she immediately thought my husband was the abuser but he has never been physical). I was just weighing it all out. My husband is aware of how I am feeling. I am just setting things up to ensure that me and my son are truly safe. Does that even make sense? What I love about this Dr is she nodded like she understood. She listened. She validated. And together we are working on a solution.

Do I tell lies? Of course I twist a few facts here and there to try and get some sort of rise out of my husband that never comes. I can’t deny that he spends more time attached to his phone and how he will lash out at me say that I am doing the same. Nothing gets on my nerves faster than watching him not engage with my son. My son acts out for attention. Let the yelling matches begin. Ding, ding. I am a fly on my own wall trying to keep everybody safe. Don’t think I hate my husband. I don’t. I just wish he liked me. I wish he saw me as a friend and not some fixture in the house. I wish he wouldn’t call me a pig and lazy or exclaim, “what the hell did you do all day.” Trust me when I say this I clean this house every damn day because MY SON deserves it. Not him. Telling me being a vegetarian is annoying and inconvenient to excuse buying McDonald’s everyday is just making me insane. My son and I always enjoy our pasta, salad and veggies so it is impossible to be just me. I know. I got yelled at last night for some dirt on the counter from a cat knocking over my plant. This is where I eat he exclaimed as I stare at his crusty socks on my counter. In the middle of the counter right below his god damn shoes. But I can’t say anything can I. His house so his rules.

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