“I start to feel like I can’t maintain the facade any longer, that I may just start to show through. And I wish I knew what was wrong. Maybe something about how stupid my whole life is. I don’t know. Why does the rest of the world put up with the hypocrisy, the need to put a happy face on sorrow, the need to keep on keeping on?... I don’t know the answer, I know only that I can’t. I don't want any more vicissitudes, I don't want any more of this try, try again stuff. I just want out. I’ve had it. I am so tired. - Elizabeth Wurtzel
So, Saturday was our anniversary. TCBIM didn't remember it. I gave him a card, since we can't really afford presents. He hasn't done anything about it - said he was sorry on Sunday, but never even said Happy Anniversary. This goes hand in hand with not getting me anything for Mother's Day or my birthday, which was in November. I think the only reason he remembers Christmas is because of the incessant advertising, otherwise, he'd forget that, too. And it's not that I want lavish gifts, I just want to be acknowledged. I just want him to remember I exist, that I'm alive. I feel, sometimes, like I'm in a soundproof room, screaming and screaming but no one can hear me.
I'm getting very frustrated with him. He's taken procrastination to new heights, heights I never even dreamed of. I do the things that he says he's going to do - whenever he says he'll clean the kitchen, I know it won't happen. When he says he'll do laundry, I know I'll wind up doing it. Stuff like that I can handle. But when he says he'll move the stove into the cellar or haul a bed out of the attic because we promised to give it to someone, well, I can't physically do that right now. And it's pissing me off that he's making ME look like an irresponsible ditz when it's him that can't get his shit together. And then I wonder if it's just me, if I'm the only one feeling this way, if it's because I'm depressed again. Or if he really is being that annoying. I don't enjoy all this second-guessing myself.
I'm just exhausted and he doesn't seem to get it. He rolls his eyes at me when I ask him to do something. I'm 8 months pregnant. I'm pushing 40 years old. I'm fucking TIRED. Physically and mentally tired. And when he rolls his eyes at me, I want to rip his fucking head right off and then boil his skull and use it as a drinking vessel. The amount of rage I feel sometimes is scary.
I'm just really starting to feel like I'm in over my head, in so many ways. I started taking anti-depressants again, but they take a while to kick in and I'm really afraid I'm going to spend the next few weeks snapping at my kids and wanting to just curl into a ball and cry. So far, this staying home lark is sucking ass. I'm trying so hard to hold it together and I'm so afraid I'm going to fail spectacularly.