Being ‘Unplugged’

Remember last week when I said that the squeaky wheel gets the grease? Well, I raised a fuss after the Old Man got home that night and demanded an apology…which he refused to give me, of course. He actually expected me to apologize to him and his dad for ‘disrespecting’ his father. Yeah…AS IF! To begin with, I don’t think I disrespected anyone just because I drew attention to a problem we were having that his father was obviously contributing to. If I’d called him an asshole or something that would’ve been different and understandable, but I did not. Anyway, I told the Old Man that I didn’t feel I disrespected anyone, there was no fault on my part whatsoever, and if anything they both have disrespected me and my feelings and owe ME an apology. Well, he refused, as I knew he would. At which time I had to bring up the point that although he feels he doesn’t have to ever take responsibility for his poor choices and actions we are all held accountable for these things in one way or another; but if he chose to be a dick I would play along.

One thing that irritates the hell out of me more than anything is when my husband acts smug. Irritate is a kind word for what it does to me, in fact. He’s under the assumption that he can say or do anything he wants and there’s little I can do about it because I signed this marriage license he calls a contract. A delicate way of saying ‘he owns me’. Anytime he wants me to do something that I don’t want to do he jokes it’s in my contract. Jokes, but the rest of the time acts like it’s written in concrete. His attitude of I’m not going to apologize, I’m going to continue being an ass, and there’s nothing you can do about it, didn’t go over well. My reaction was “R-e-e-e-a-l-l-y?”

I figured out a long time ago that this contract I signed entitled me to a few things too, and well…I thought he needed to be reminded of that. I informed him if he didn’t want to show me respect and act married, then as far as I was concerned he wasn’t. He could do as he damn well pleased. But…so could I. I don’t ‘have to’ act married either. In fact, if I wanted I could go out, mess around, and hell…even bring a man back to the house and legally there wasn’t anything he could do about it. He can’t throw me out because it’s my house too. He can’t stop me from seeing someone else if I desire attention and he won’t give it to me. He can’t do anything. Fuck with Pissy when she’s mad, will ya! So I told him to go ahead and be a dick, play his games, but until I got an apology he wasn’t getting his balls polished. And if during that time I NEED IT, I’ll go looking for it elsewhere.

It took all evening of him, I can only assume, stewing in his juices and giving thought to what I said, before he came upstairs and gave me an apology. Then to ‘hit home’ the fact that there is indeed still a contract between us and he owns me, he called me his Sexy Bitch, pulled my hair, and I forgave him. 🙂 I know…I’m too easy, huh? Should I be bothered by the fact that he truly thinks I’m capable of going out and picking someone up to spite him? Hmmm…

Anyway, shit hit the fan, and then one of us was smart enough to shut it off again before there was a complete poo-fest in our marriage; the kind where clean-up is too horrific so you shut the door behind you and just walk away. And he did spend the whole weekend up my butt to the point where I was ready for him to go back to work Monday morning, so I guess that was his way of ‘making an effort’.

Okay, so I wish I could say I was back to being all Piss and Vinegar and have the world and my husband by the balls again, but that wouldn’t be entirely truthful. I’m battling this constant uneasiness; a troubling feeling. My depression has reached an ‘anxiety’ level, and I’m beginning to have small panic attacks when having to deal with any feelings of discomfort where anything is concerned. I’m going through periods of consuming mass quantities of Pepsi and sweets, to eating nothing at all. I find interacting with others almost laborious, and feel Agoraphobic after just a short time away from home and am ready to rush back. I find little happiness in anything right now. In all this time I’ve been spending away from writing and corresponding I don’t think I’ve read one other post or a book. I can get lost just sitting in a chair doing nothing for hours listening to easy instrumental music. I’ve come unplugged and am not quite sure how to plug myself back in to people and life. I know I need to though, because when I begin to feel small, insignificant, and lose my voice, I begin to disappear. And I guess I should’ve seen this coming. I haven’t been myself for months since losing both my boys, and have tried to ignore it. I don’t think I let myself grieve the way I should have. Now I don’t know where to start. Yeah, I know I need to do something before this gets worse and consumes me completely, because I’m at my best when I am loud and larger than life, and right now the only thing that’s deafening is the silent depression.

I apologize that I’ve done little to keep up with everyone, including replying to comments left me. I have no other excuse except that I have not wanted to deal with these ‘panic’ episodes, and can barely get through writing a post, let alone much else. For those of you who’ve stuck by me anyway, I just want to say thanks. Most of you know what I’m dealing with though, don’t you? It ain’t our first rodeo. 

Much love.