Happiest When Mad

Nothing seems to get my husband madder than me trying to live my best life. There is no love lost between us when he begins to carry on this way. There is nothing in this world that will become last minute when he begins to seethe and begin to show his rage.

Apparently my 2.5 hours that is “free” time is supposed to be the time that I cater to my husband’s needs. Last night as he decided that he was having a bad night and time he wanted to destroy my happiness so he could make me feel the same.

It’s incredibly alarming to me. If I even take a minute for myself these days, I get called every single type of name. I am lazy for not cleaning his filth, because let me tell you why I would cater to this man. He is mean. He is rude. And he is most definitely not the soul mate for me.

My son is my joy and he is the greatest love I have ever known so my desire to protect him is something that I must have acquired while he was developing in the womb. It’s hard. It’s a struggle and no matter how tired I get it would be nice if there was some help.

I guess I am no longer interested in pursuing any type of intimacy that could possibly be provided by this man. He has never presented me with his purest intentions over the years and I finally have come to the realization that it could never possibly be me.

Some people think I should be thankful for a man that loafs around the house. How can I be thankful for a man who smokes his cigarettes inside and gets mad when we try to spend any sort of time with him. His presence inside the house is apparently enough but have you ever watched your son cry because your husband is absent? I know Darlings so have I.

I think it is the insults that get to me the most if I don’t cater to his needs. The way he talks to me is so vile that it will and will always bring me right to my knees. And not in a good way. The type that makes you feel exhausted and eventually you begin to bleed. I hold onto this belief that I must be safer here in his presence, but I can see how wrong that mentality actually is. He likes to taunt me to get a job but if I am collecting a paycheck, I am sure as hell not going to help provide for him, in fact I am going to be long gone.

This man is so mean, but I can promise you he is not my type. I just thought it would be easier if we started a family and I became his wife. At 37 I needed that commitment and promise of better days. How was i supposed to know that my ending was never going to be that way.

It breaks my heart when he treats me this way. Whenever he doesn’t get his way, he sure has a lot to say. Maybe I am wrong, and the man does deserve to do nothing after working hard all day but what if he just sits around smoking weed with his boss? What if he is tired because he is burnt out and not because of any hard work he has actually done? His favourite rebuttal is that I have no brains or that I am lazy as hell, and he wants me to be accountable for every minute that he is away.

Isn’t that invasive? All I do is sit at home. I am trying to be productive in my life before my brain begins to turn to hell. There are so many thoughts in my day to day that it is any wonder that I am still here. I get up at the butt crack *ss of dawn to write these words that nobody reads to listen to my husband tell me how big of a loser I truly am. I mean I could clean this house spic and span spotless, and it will only take a second before it is overturned but I still try. You just don’t see it because the moment you get home the pants come off and the socks get put on my kitchen counter.

The evening seems to be the worst time for us with every other sentence coming out of his breath is that he is about to come unc*nted. I can see the fear in my sons eyes as he clouds over in this way as we all scramble around to collect his baring’s and to get out of his way. This life is exhausting with very little help. He seems to think that being a Dad should be accounted for by something as he likes to nickel and dime anytime they hang out together. What I am getting tired of saying is this isn’t something that you are doing for me but rather for your son. I think he forgets that he is a fabulous little being as he spends most of his waking hours asleep

.

I have no patience for this man who is now so incredibly mean. I am now at a place where I question those who immediately come to his defense and aide. Maybe it is just me that he is horrible too. He treats me more like a possession than any sort of ally or friend. He tells me I am not allowed to share my story and I believe it is because he likes to see me struggle alone. I warned those that are closest to me what is soon coming but they just shrug it off not too sure what to believe.

I need to harden up and continue living my life. I am tired of looking over my shoulder and always having to catch strife. I am tired of the names and having to walk around this house in fear. Every day is something and it will always be this way year after year. I know that I am hated so it is hard to want to stay and hang around. I am thankful for the light that is my son. Without his light I don’t know where I would be. I am thankful for all the parts inside of him that come alive because of me.

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