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Friday 27 November 2015

67: Clearly A Failure

Yesterday I get home and she tells me about a dad from school who had been offered  a role in Singapore, Shanghai or Houston. The obvious implication being that he was more successful than me and that I was clearly a failure.

No doubt the failure bit is true - comparatively speaking - but is that a supportive partner? You think I am imagining this?

The conversation carries on:

'Are you applying for any jobs right now?'

No

'What is your designation now? 'Head of ..' like you were before or just a 'Manager?'

Manager

'What about your friends?'

No response from me.

'Are you going to the gym on Monday evening?'

Probably not as I have a meeting with my big boss.

'How old is he?'

Mid to late 50s I suppose.

'At least he is not younger than you.'

Where do I go with this? Have I really provided such a  poor and deprived life?

I am earning more than £100k per annum and her lack of control means that this is not quite enough - and I am trying to go higher. But it is all attack, attack, attack.

In contrast, I wake up the next morning, come out of our room and get a 'daaaaad' from our son who is already awake, a huge smile and massive hug.

I have a son who loves me, valued friends, family members who appreciate me and provide me with support. Am I that bad a person?

This is not how I imagined my life panning out.

Sunday 1 November 2015

66: Low Tesosterone - and sympathy (not)

I went to the doctors for my erectile dysfunction and a marginally low level of testosterone was diagnosed.

This was virtually the ideal result – so ‘lack of performance’ was not down to psychological issues and what she would perceive as her fault. She was happy I am sure.

The Next Cutting Comment
Through my teens and twenties I did not have a girlfriend. Blame me, blame my Asian background – this is not an uncommon story. The women whom I did like, I lacked the confidence to do anything about so as not to threaten a friendship. A good friend’s mum asked him whether I was gay?!

I had written diaries in my teens but in my twenties I wrote a lot of letters to friends and relations. The feedback that I’ve had from them has always been appreciative and positive. Being somewhat lonely, I suppose the letters helped me and were enjoyed by others.
Now, there used to be a writer called James Thurber who always kept copies of his correspondence. Partly inspired by this, I also kept copies of what I wrote and retained the ones I received. They became my diary. A little strange perhaps but a chronicle of sorts – and we would today use Facebook maybe.

‘Did the GP ask you whether you had had girlfriends when you were young? If your friend had been a GP he would have. Your friends should be told about this. This explains it. Instead of chasing after girls, you were writing letters and keeping photocopies – how weird is that.’
So…

Where she wanted sympathy for a potential early menopause, the nearest male equivalent evinces the response above.
Does depression lead to low testosterone or does low testosterone lead to depression? Whichever it may be, I am there ....

Wednesday 7 October 2015

65: Bits and Pieces

Time
I come home and say, ‘there is a free aqua class you can try on Sunday at the gym.’

‘What time is it at?’ Swiftly followed by, ‘I can’t go anyway – housework does not get done by itself.’

Now, even if I were a useless slob who could not clean, iron and cook, a full time housewife should be able to juggle to get away for an hour on a Sunday. No? Martyrdom again.
Social
‘We used to go out more with your old team. They were a lot more inclusive of partners.’ (about 4 occassions over two years)
She is talking pre-2005 when we did not have a child. Obviously, we could join in as a couple at that time.

Then, post-baby, for about 7 years, we were both effectively home bound as she refused – despite my suggestion – to use babysitters.
Since then, I have given myself a little more time. But I checked the other day and it was only about 4 times in a year.

But, in any case, with the team that she resents:
she came along to Frisbee but sat there and read a book and did not participate – while my son and I played.
we have been to J.’s house twice for dinner / barbecue

we have been to R.s house for a party
we would have gone to C.’s house had she not been in India.

we would have gone to  B.’s house had she not been in India.




Again, why let the facts get in the way of a good story. But I really could not be bothered to argue.
Money
She has now started to tell me how much she spends.

'£X on his birthday party - I got a Groupon offer'; ‘only 44p for the dress – I had a £10 token – I did not buy new.’
I have never, NEVER, asked her for accounts. She has spent without any bar. We are adults, we should be a partnership, we should be able to take joint responsibility – that has always been my attitude.

But, it if pleases her to do this as part of her suffering, humiliation and martyrdom – so be it.

I really can’t be bothered with all this - I am beyond all this but cannot leave.

Friday 2 October 2015

64: Appointments and Assignations - whom do I meet?

So I was taken to task for having spoken to B. over the phone.

I thought I would take a quick look at my diary. Over the last four weeks or so:


Spoke to B. over the phone as she has been very unwell and not in the office

L. (older female – catch up and drinks)
R. (male – coffee re: possible new opportunity)

S. (male – coffee re: bringing him in to a new opportunity)

P. (male – catch – up breakfast over work issues)
C. (male – breakfast to help with an interview)

R. (male – lunch – general catch up)

J. (male – walk to discuss next steps for his career)
 
P. (male - discussing 360 review for him and how he is starting a new role)
G. (male - discussing 360 review for him)

D. (male - gone to another organisation - breakfast catch-up)

M. (female - colleague from an old team - catch-up and support)

I do not think I am duty bound to clear every meeting I have.
B. is just one of several friends whom I meet and try to help or get help from.
But what is the point of debating all that – why let facts get in the way of a good story?

With one of the above (a male) I shared some of my travails. He then sent me a message - obviously unprompted:

Morning. Feeling a bit useless that I can't do more to help but don't forget, here to help in any way I can. In all the time I've known you, you have always looked out for everyone else. That's a rare and special quality and I am grateful to be a prime beneficiary. Chin up Mr B. You're a good man with good friends to support you.

Oh, and I suddenly found my wallet emptied the other day. Presumably she was looking for receipts that would show that I had spent money on B.? Found nothing suspicious because there is nothing going on.

Reminds me that many years ago she did find a receipt for a gift token I had bought for my god-daughter who must have been 12 or so about then.

'You buy gifts for your god-daughter but not for your son.'

Really?!!! Anyone who knows us will know how much of an insult and travesty that is.

(I think this was driven from the fact that the god-daughter's mother - who was my friend initially - is somehow not liked by M. - too provincial. But there is an excuse not to like virtually any of my friends - so nothing new there.)

But, to my shame, I said nothing, hunkered down and did not buy another present and, for sure, have neglected my god-father duties. But there were just so many harangues I could take without adding another one.

Maybe I will explain to C. one day...

63: Letter to my cuz - not sent


A letter I almost wrote and sent to my cousin who is nearest to me in age, and with whom I have shared confidences in the past.

Dear X

Not sure why I am writing this letter. Perhaps I am thinking back to a simpler time when I used to write to you – a time when all of life was ahead and decisions were full of possibilities to be looked forward to rather than mistakes to regret.

It is a Saturday evening and M. and P. are upstairs. I was doing some work, when I felt like writing. It’s been another traumatic day in a long line of traumatic days. She continues to accuse me of having had an affair with a colleague / friend. I continue to say, ‘I have not’ – and I truly haven’t. Yes, I have used her as a confidant and she has shared stuff with me but there is only friendship. She accused me the other day of having done something to my Facebook account that ensured that stuff she put on with both her and me could not be seen. I showed her that I had made no changes. That my friend was no longer a Facebook ‘friend’. None of that was good enough. So I lost my temper and said that she could stay in her world – there was nothing I could do about it. Surely I am not such a bad person.

In the midst of all this shit, I have to work, keep my job and earn a living. Over the summer she suddenly decided that she wanted to work. Having been out of the market for so long, possibly an administrative role would be appropriate – I didn’t dare say this, a recruiter did. But, no, with her fucking Cambridge degree, that would be beneath her. She suggested that I really would not be happy if someone from a low grade university came along to do my job. How could I explain that, firstly, in England, the origin of a degree ceases to matter within months of starting work. And, secondly, I, personally, couldn’t give a shit where people studied so long as they do good work. How is a degree of 25 years ago even minutely relevant?

Have you heard of anyone who decides which gym to go to based on the fact that there are private school mums there rather than state school ones?!!!!

I tried to help by making a contact with a friend in an NGO – someone who likes helping people. Has she been in touch with her? Has she fuck….

The only way I can function and work productively is ignore what it going on at home. I have always put home first and work second – and been fortunate enough to be able to do that while meeting material needs. And I believed I had met my objectives of being a close dad and a supportive husband. But I clearly failed in the latter.

This evening she was unwell and so, initially, I offered to cook. ‘No.’ I offered to clear up and suggested she go up to bed. ‘No, I am ok now. I have to do this anyway ….’. Later she asks, ‘Are you going downstairs to work?’ ‘Yes.’ ‘Ok, so I can watch what I want.’ Where does this victimhood come from? Where have I ever imposed my views or been less than helpful?

This from a woman who never vacuumed even when we did not have our son. Never cleaned the toilets, hardly ironed. I did all that. I did the night feeds, stayed up when our son was ill or woke up, cut his hair, read bed-time stories. We have a cleaner now and have had for ten years. So where is the stress? Where is this martyrdom?

I know I am not being very supportive psychologically and that is because I have lost all capacity to be empathetic/sympathetic. I have given it my all and been found wanting. But, physically, I am making an effort. By going to the gym, I was accused of having ‘fun.’ So I’ve stopped and am supporting her going. I continue to do most of the ironing. I have changed roles and moved away from the friends she was jealous of – though I have said that I will continue to be friends. I am, like I have done before, drawing in on myself again when these last few years I have tried to make some space for myself. But I owe this to our son because I cannot give him up or leave him to her mercies.

Currently, of course, she believes I have been having an affair with B.. Not true. But, as I pointed out, I have a letter from about 2000 where she used the word ‘hate’ in the context of my sister-in-law. Then came the friend I used to share a house with, you, other friends and so on and so on - jealousy and anger. She does not know what will make her happy and only control will do. And any closeness with others is a threat.

Is there any scenario out of this? I cannot afford to divorce without reducing our son’s lifestyle and that would be unfair. Could she find someone else and leave us? Oh, to dream of such a moment.

Thursday 1 October 2015

62: Is this a balanced person?


‘There are a couple of long phone calls in your account – give me your phone.’

It’s B.’s number. You promised you would not call.’

‘I did not. I said I would not be giving up my friends for you.’

(this is two calls over four weeks by the way - I assume an affair would have calls every day and probably from my work phone rather than my personal one which is open to her?)

‘You have cheated on me with her.’

‘I have used her as a confidant, yes. But there is nothing other than friendship.’

‘She is trying to entrap you.’

‘No she is not – we are friends. And you have done this time and again with other people, long before B. turned up.’

(I have been having some problems on the sexual front – erectile dysfunction.)

‘No doubt you have talked to her about your impotence as well?’

‘No.’

‘Why didn’t you tell me this when we got married?’

‘What?’

‘That you are impotent. Of course you are not having an affair – you are impotent.’

‘You have clearly told me I am a failure in every sense. I cannot think about that if I have to function and earn a living.’

‘What is wrong with her?’

‘She does not know.’

‘Hope she dies. But then you will be heartbroken.’

Wednesday 16 September 2015

61: Huge row - getting worse


One of the reasons I have not mentioned the thrown away cards has been because she is not entirely well right now. It is likely that she is going threw an early menopause. And I do not want to be in any way unfriendly right now. (25 Sep update - she is not, it was a delayed period)
But then she sends me this e-mail and:
In case you want to read or have not googled already - http://www.nhs.uk/Livewell/menopause/Pages/Supportyourpartner.aspx

I respond
I had already googled.

I am happy to take on more load - as I have offered for this week-end for example. (Blog note: we have family coming around)

More cooking? Perhaps stock up over the week-end.

Take over washing duties? Happy to do so.

More responsibility for homework? No problem.

Cleaning up in the evening? No issues.

I genuinely want to help ...

I get home and am told that she will, ‘speak to me later.’
So, as we are going to bed, the diatribe starts. It is not about work, it is about acknowledging her. Why had I lied to her about confiding in someone? Why do I not praise her in front of others? The accusation of being obsessed with my friend B.. How the e-mail to B. clearly showed that I was in love. When walking to a restaurant, why was I walking in front of her and not with her? Why did I not share the Facebook update?

I lost my temper and asked her whether she had any idea how she treats me like shit? And I had never reacted until now. There was absolutely nothing I could do to make her happy.
‘Why do you still have that LinkedIn blog up there?’

‘Why not? It’s about work issues.’
‘And you don’t exactly do great work. Aren’t you ashamed that you’ve not had a pay rise for five years? Anyone doing a proper job would not have so much time for friends. People go to work not for friends. Don’t kid yourself that you are in a serious job.’

I said that I have been fortunate in not having to chop and change and met my commitments at home. That is not a sacrifice – that just is. And you are wrong about work – it is entirely about people.
(I didn’t say that I have been earning between £95 - £100k for the last ten years. Not out of this world but ok. And I have combined this with being a dad and a supportive husband. That I have had time for friends because, over time, the colleagues I interacted with daily became friends.)

I continued to say that if you tell people that somehow you are neglected, people will laugh. In terms of holidays and presents … people will laugh.
‘So where is my anniversary present then?’

‘Theatre and expensive dinner wasn’t enough?!’
‘You always object to receiving Christmas presents?’

‘That’s because I spend money on golf and cricket during the year and that is enough. And spending to buy this house, more than £30k on improvements – is that not money? Why is it only me who has to worry about finance. Do you have no contribution.’
I mentioned that she had used the word ‘hate’ in the context of my sister-in-law many, many years ago. That, if not her, it would be other friends or relations, anyone who was close. It is just a pattern and I really do not know what to do.

Then she went off on another rant and I walked out of the bedroom.
She came after me as if to hit me, snatched my phone away and threw it across the room. ‘Is this how you show empathy?’

I had to admit that I no longer have the energy to show sympathy. I have to work, I have to earn, I have to survive and I just do not know what to do.

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