Life has been pretty calm of late. Partly due to the fact that I had an epiphany moment the other day.
Something has 'clicked' inside me and I wonder if things will ever be the same again - which is a terrifying thought to contemplate given that we are both relatively young. Anyway, the epiphany was that I cannot let this issue affect me adversely: I could easily let this thing gnaw away at me and become the only thing I think about. So, at work as well as at home, I have decided that I will concern myself with and do my best at the things that I control, I will advise in the areas I can influence but ignore the rest and not get upset or excited. This the only way to bring some focus to my mind.
Already I have avoided meeting up with friends - other than close ones - as I haven't been in the mood to be relaxed and friendly; this I have to correct.
I was telling a close friend I did meet up with about some of my issues, and it occurred to me that I have always relied on my friends to give me confidence. They are the only group who have an unadulteratedly positive view of me and in whose company I feel some worth. One's partner should be there to support, to help, to build up and not to criticise, make one feel small and treat like an idiot.
Tuesday 22 March 2011
Tuesday 8 March 2011
Entry 9: A Microcosm
A microcosm of why I have given up.
Last Monday and Tuesday I stayed home to do odd jobs around the house - like putting up mirrors and pictures and so on. I had initially brought the stuff out of the garage in August last year and then taken a day off in October to do the work but she hadn't made up her mind.
Anyway, I do the drilling and things, there's dust around. I use the dustpan and brush. No thanks for the work, the minimum help with the activity but immediate criticism for having used the dustpan and brush instead of the vacuum cleaner. Couldn't she have got off her fat arse and gone round cleaning after each drilling if she felt the need instead of sitting around and doing Facebook while I worked?
Last Monday and Tuesday I stayed home to do odd jobs around the house - like putting up mirrors and pictures and so on. I had initially brought the stuff out of the garage in August last year and then taken a day off in October to do the work but she hadn't made up her mind.
Anyway, I do the drilling and things, there's dust around. I use the dustpan and brush. No thanks for the work, the minimum help with the activity but immediate criticism for having used the dustpan and brush instead of the vacuum cleaner. Couldn't she have got off her fat arse and gone round cleaning after each drilling if she felt the need instead of sitting around and doing Facebook while I worked?
Monday 7 March 2011
Entry 8: Help!
No, we haven't spoken about our issues. Life continues peaceably enough but there is no laughter and no fun. But things are definitely not getting better.
She fell really ill on Thursday (3rd) and spent the whole day in bed - some sort of viral. Better on Friday but down again on Friday evening. Drama, drama, drama - 'man-flu' in a woman.
So on Saturday I do about three hours of ironing from all the stuff that had been piling up for weeks. (the cleaner usually only has time to do a few things each week and then I - not she - have to blitz.) This in addition to taking our son to the shops to buy a toy, give him a shower, get him ready, keep him entertained, run the wash and do the drying and prepare lunch for us all. She was too ill to help in any of this but not too ill to work out some complicated train timings for a friend of hers and do Facebook.
And the point is, I do not mind. I do not need thanks and nor do I need praise. But it is the additional heap of criticisms and accusations of being uncaring which truly make me angry. Like, today, early in the morning, I unload the dishwasher, get our son ready for school and drop him off. And then are snide comments about my having forgotten to give him his water bottle and a snack. Yes, I did forget and I should not have but, really, is it fair to focus only on that?
So I come home from work, immediately get down to feeding our son. Am informed that she is still not well and will not be having any dinner. I get a bite from the fridge, have dinner with our son, read him a story, put him to bed and then go back down to the kitchen to clear up. All this time she is too ill to eat or help but well enough to do Facebook.
I met an old friend of mine for lunch last Friday and shared with her some of my frustrations. This is something I have not done before - mostly because I do not see the point of burdening someone else with my stuff but partly out of respect for my wife. The only confidant a person should need is his or her partner. I would have had to let everything out for the lunch to be truly therapeutic but some is better than none.
Help!
She fell really ill on Thursday (3rd) and spent the whole day in bed - some sort of viral. Better on Friday but down again on Friday evening. Drama, drama, drama - 'man-flu' in a woman.
So on Saturday I do about three hours of ironing from all the stuff that had been piling up for weeks. (the cleaner usually only has time to do a few things each week and then I - not she - have to blitz.) This in addition to taking our son to the shops to buy a toy, give him a shower, get him ready, keep him entertained, run the wash and do the drying and prepare lunch for us all. She was too ill to help in any of this but not too ill to work out some complicated train timings for a friend of hers and do Facebook.
And the point is, I do not mind. I do not need thanks and nor do I need praise. But it is the additional heap of criticisms and accusations of being uncaring which truly make me angry. Like, today, early in the morning, I unload the dishwasher, get our son ready for school and drop him off. And then are snide comments about my having forgotten to give him his water bottle and a snack. Yes, I did forget and I should not have but, really, is it fair to focus only on that?
So I come home from work, immediately get down to feeding our son. Am informed that she is still not well and will not be having any dinner. I get a bite from the fridge, have dinner with our son, read him a story, put him to bed and then go back down to the kitchen to clear up. All this time she is too ill to eat or help but well enough to do Facebook.
I met an old friend of mine for lunch last Friday and shared with her some of my frustrations. This is something I have not done before - mostly because I do not see the point of burdening someone else with my stuff but partly out of respect for my wife. The only confidant a person should need is his or her partner. I would have had to let everything out for the lunch to be truly therapeutic but some is better than none.
Help!
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