I hate J.

This post will be all about my shitty marriage. At first, when thinking about this post, I thought...do I really want other people to know all about my shitty marriage? Then I thought, well, what's the point of having a blog if you're going to only write about 'safe' topics? I mean, the whole point--in my opinion anyway--is that blogs are used as a release with the hopes that other people will provide you with some support or new ways of thinking about things. If all we wanted to do was write about it, we'd do it privately. What we bloggers really want is someone to read us and understand us and support us.

So anyway...if you've read any of my past posts about my relationship with J., you'll know it's not the greatest, and right now I'm at a real low point as far as my attitude toward it. I could probably write pages and pages about all the ways my marriage sucks. In fact, right now, I don't even know where to begin.

It's more than just an annoying thing he does here or there. It's like our relationship has been poisoned somehow and there's returning it to anything healthy and good. Of course, my writing here will focus on all the ways he has ruined things; I'm not in the mood to try to analyze my fault in all this, and truthfully, I feel he is more to blame. And I know laying blame is not productive, but I don't really care. So there.

This is how I feel about our marriage. Lonely. Misunderstood. Angry. Disgusted. Frustrated. Bored.

Lonely.
J. and I now officially sleep in separate rooms. I couldn't stand the disgusting mess that our bedroom became again and again within days of when I would clean up all of his junk and make it liveable. I told J. that he needed to keep it cleaner or I would have to just sleep elsewhere. He made no effort. So I packed up my alarm clock and moved into the guest room, where I've been for at least a month. It made me sad today to hear J. tell Bubba to go find me "in her room."

We don't have interesting conversations about anything...in fact, we don't talk much at all. We talk about Bubba and how he is doing; J. makes me listen to really boring stories from his work even when I don't even feign interest; and that's about it.

We don't have sex. There are some other issues there that are complicating things, like my recovery from crotch surgery in July which has led to some fear and issues with sexual function--but I think the number one factor in my lack of desire and 'performance' is the state of our marriage.

Misunderstood
A real injury to our relationship began after Bubba was born and I had postpartum depression. Even after being 'educated' about what PPD is and how it affects the sufferer and her family, he still would say things to me like, "I expected you to be a better mother than this," or "I just can't believe you don't enjoy it" or "After seeing how you grieved after losing Hope, I just didn't expect you to be this way." I don't know that I've really gotten over that. It really affected, and affects, the way I view myself as a mother, and therefore, as a woman and person in general.

J. seems to expect that my actions are engineered to piss him off or be malicious in some way. We were having an argument awhile back about housework. I'd asked him to take some TV trays to the basement, and he didn't until I'd asked him three times. During the argument, in all seriousness, that he said he felt that I'd put the TV trays there to 'set him up for failure.' Nevermind the fact that if he would have just taken them downstairs at the beginning, there would be no 'failure'--nevermind the fact that I was fucking exhausted from working all day, running to WalMart to get Bubba a toddler bed because he'd fallen out of his crib the night before, taking care of Bubba all night AND putting together the bed with Bubba's 'help' while J. played softball, and rearranging and Bubba-proofing the entire room.

Angry/Disgusted
These two kind of go together for me. In short (or long, we'll see how it goes) I'm angry about J. never doing a damn thing around this house. I'm angry that every night when I come home I have to do the dishes, laundry, bathe Bubba, straighten up the house, go through piles of J.'s mail and assorted crap so that once every three weeks I can actually see the countertop. I'm angry that he plays Guitar Hero while I clean Bubba's humidifier, straighten up the bathroom and clean up after the supper I cooked the night before that J. was supposed to clean up after and didn't. I'm angry that J. sits in front of the TV set with Bubba and feels that he is contributing something valuable to the household. I'm angry that J. won't discipline Bubba, so now Bubba cries and cries at bedtime and I have to be the bad parent who makes him behave, even though it doesn't work very well because he knows Daddy will give in.

I'm disgusted by J.'s laziness and his lack of desire to do anything except play video games and smoke. I'm angry and disgusted that J. actually agreed to go to counseling because he was depressed, and then reveals to me that when he goes to therapy they "really just shoot the shit" the whole time and don't work on anything of any importance.

Frustrated
I'm frustrated that I can't count on J. to do anything. That my father cleans out our cat box every week when he and my mom come to watch Bubba because it's so disgusting he thinks it's unhealthy. That my father mows our lawn, takes back our recycling, fixes our clogged drains and has even cleaned out our gutters because J. can't get his lazy ass out there to do it.

I'm frustrated that J. will tell me he's going to do something and then never does. I reminded him three times on Friday, Sunday and Monday to make an appointment at the vet for our cat, who is drinking and urinating way too much and has a big sore on his mouth. J. made the appointment for today at 2:30. This morning when I said, "So you're taking the cat to the vet today?" His response was "Dammit! I'm going to have to reschedule." He just doesn't have time to do it, he says. Too much to do at work. So I'm taking the day off work so I can have time to go to my therapy appointment and then take the cat to the vet. Oh yeah, I will also be picking up Bubba's meds at the pharmacy because I know I can't count on J. to do it.

Bored
This is pretty self-explanatory. We don't talk, we don't do anything fun, we don't have sex. We don't have anything to say to one another.

I dread coming home at the end of the day, to the point where sometimes I need anxiety medication just to make it through. I fantasize about jumping in the car and just driving away. Sometimes, images pop into my head of my self, my body, just falling down and breaking into a million pieces, or of myself just screaming at the top of my lungs. Sometimes I fantasize about killing myself, but realize it wouldn't be fair to Bubba.

Oh Bubba. I feel so terrible that we tried so fucking hard to have him and now he has to grow up with this. I cannot wish away Bubba's existence, but how I wish J. and I had realized the state of our relationship before we had a child. We were so focused on having a child that we missed it. Having a child was our joint project, our sole focus. When we finally achieved it, we came back to our lives, and they aren't pretty.

I think about divorce and am overwhelmed. I don't make enough money to support two households (neither does J.), so how do I even begin to extricate myself from this? I can't imagine being able to get an apartment, let alone another car, let alone attorney's fees. And I know that if I am the one to leave, that will reflect poorly on me when it comes to custody stuff. I don't want to keep Bubba from J., but I also don't want J. to keep Bubba from me, and I really fear that he'd try.

I feel stuck, sad, desperate. I don't know what to do but I know I have to do something. I really don't think I love him anymore. I really don't think he loves me anymore. Our marriage has been in real trouble for a long time--some who know us would say it's been in trouble since the beginning. We always fought, we always had issues. But years ago, there was also love and respect that brought us back to one another. I think that's gone now.

It makes me sad to think that we've failed. I feel sorry for myself when I think about what my future without J. might be like--seeing Bubba a couple times a week and listening to him cry for Daddy, living by myself (that doesn't seem so bad but I know it would get lonely sometimes...although I'm lonely now anyway), never finding love again because I think I'm too disgusting and fucked up for anyone to ever find attractive. But I also feel sorry for myself when I think about spending the rest of my life working like a slave to pick up after this man who couldn't give two shits about me, feeling ugly and unloved, coming home every night to the home that feels like a jail.

I don't know what I need to do to find happiness. I just know I'm not going to find it here. I'm giving up that dream. I guess I need to find a new one.