I miss blogging every day like I used to, but it just doesn’t happen. It is certainly not for lack of trying because I open the damn thing every day with every intention of blogging. I just can’t come with a single thing to blog about that is even remotely interesting. My life bores even me. It is always the same routine, the same drama, and the sameness is killing me. I am thoroughly miserable and I don’t know what the hell to do about it. Situations and life pretty much have me stuck where I am and there is no way around that. But sometimes it is the little things that can make a world of difference, and yet no one in this house seems to care enough to even try. The constant crap is so draining that there are days when I wake up hating life before anyone else is even awake. I HATE feeling like that, but I am not everyone’s doormat, despite what they may think. But do they expect me to always be Miss Merry Sunshine when they talk to me like I am crap? But how can I expect the kids to be respectful when they hear the way their father speaks to me? It’s like everyone around him has to be perfect all the time, perfect by his definition which is by and large unattainable and pretty much unrealistic. Last night was a perfect example. Scott had spilled some water on the floor and Corey told him to dry it up. Fine. He grabbed a kitchen towel and did it, and started to put the dirty towel back on the fridge. Well, Corey snapped his head off over it, and the kid totally didn’t deserve it. Okay, gross, but everyone has a bonehead moment, right? Goddess knows I do, and so does Corey. Pick your battles. It wasn’t like the kid was being bad; he made a friggin’ mistake in a distracted moment. Let it go. A little while later, Corey came out of the hallway yelling at Scott for leaving a pile of soaking wet laundry on top of the dryer instead of putting it into the empty washer or the laundry basket. Doesn’t give the kid a chance to speak, doesn’t ask why, just jumps all over him. Well, the pile of soaking wet clothes (thanks to a water war outside!) was on top of the dryer because I told the kid to put them there. I told Corey that, and he pops out with “I didn’t think you would tell him to do that”, in the snotties, most condescending voice possible. Like I was an idiot who wasn’t smart enough to do things right. He was all pissed off because they had dripped on the floor. Whatever. It’s water, and since when does he clean up shit around here, anyway?! Besides, it would have been nice if he asked why I had told him to do that if it was such a big issue for him, rather than get snotty about it. And there was a reason. I didn’t want Scott to put them in the laundry basket because I didn’t want the other clothes to get wet and sit all night like that and get mildewy, which I certainly don’t need more of around here. Our laundry baskets are mesh-sided fabric bags that hand on a rack in the hall. It isn’t all that well ventihilated there, plus, being fabric, it would have not only soaked the other clothes and the basket and dripped onto the new rug. And he couldn’t put them in the washer because there had been stuff in the washer waiting to go in the dryer. So Scott did exactly what I had told him to do.
We are not his soldiers, and I am certainly not a child, so I am pretty damn tired of being talked to like I am. The moods and the impatience and the complete inability to take responsibility for how he behaves is ridiculous. I can’t win, and neither can anyone else around him. Pretty much every time I bring up his ridiculously snotty tone of voice, he refuses to even consider that perhaps he is being even unintentionaly snotty. Instead, it is blamed on me, my stress, whatever. Well, here’s a news flash. I’m stressed,… BECAUSE OF HOW I AM BEING TREATED IN THIS FAMILY!! And not everything is my fault simply because I am a girl and because I am stressed. Some of it could be just because you are being a moody jackass, because, Goddess knows, you aren’t known for that. <insert massive sarcasm here> I mean, when he is in a decent mood, even HE jokes about his bitchiness and impatience. So is it really outside of the realm of possibility that he could just be being a dick to me?
You know, I do EVERYTHING for this family; 100% of the responsibility for making sure everyone has what they need and for doing everything that needs to be done for the functioning of this family is on me. I don’t work outside of them home, but I also don’t get paid and I don’t get days off. I am everyone’s bitch. At the drop of a hat, I am there to do whatever someone needs. So I guess I don’t feel like it is too much to ask to be treated like a real live human being by my husband AND my kids.
Frankly, I am at my wit’s end. I have been fighting this battle for too long, and I am getting to the point where I feel nothing but anger and resentment sometimes. I think it is pretty clear that I just don’t really matter much to him, not really. I have made it pretty damn clear how I feel about things, and what I need to change. There ARE two people in this marriage, so it really shouldn’t be all about him and nothing about me. 100% of my life revolves around him and the kids, so I think I deserve something. And the fact that I am miserable doesn’t seem to matter? I guess that is pretty telling, huh?