Friday, October 14, 2011
He earned giftcards from his work, they were to be used for Christmas and I strongly suggested that since the money existed and my birthday was coming that he finally after years get me an actual gift. It may sound petty, but after 14 years of marriage I want a present! I had to buy my own anniversary gift, I got a stupid coffee mug and a sloppy handwritten note for Christmas promising me a dinner that I had to wait months for and had to actually ask for.
We got the giftcards in the mail, I say we like a wife but it wasn't we it was he. He hid them from me and changed his mind on what they were to be used for, less on Christmas and more on bills. He decided without me, and I was upset because the decision was his and not to be discussed with me. But he still said one of the cards was for my birthday. He was allowing me a gift after all these years. That gesture meant a lot to me and I went with it.
I found a painting that I loved, I had met the artist and she is a person that I think is amazing. She inspires me and her work is beautiful. Sadly she is retiring again, and is purging her unsold artwork before she moves.
Grocery shopping is and has been an issue for us. Most of our fights in our early marriage, before it became the disaster that it is now, were either while grocery shopping or because of it. We shop differently and we made the mistake of shopping together. I say we again, I didn't drive back then and if I wanted to grocery shop he came with me. I look back at it now and see it at control, he didn't encourage me to drive. He preferred to be the one that drove everywhere. He was the one who had the power of transportation.
I grocery shopped with coupons, I compared prices, I would put items in the cart and keep an approximate running total in my head. I also prioritized items. If I ran over my budget some items simple didn't come home with me. I took my time and wandered and looked for new things to try. Grocery shopping for me was a fun event and I enjoyed it.
He grocery shops for just what he needs. He liked Manwich, chicken, beef, pizza, and tuna casserole. He wants to know exactly how much an item was before it went in the cart. If I didn't know the price, or if he felt we didn't need it he would get upset. Once while shopping the store actually called the police on him. They offered to arrest him if I wanted to press charges. Yes he is that mean when we are in public. I should have pressed charges but I didn't.
I wanted ingredients to make a special meal, Pumpkin Mac & Cheese. I needed Hard Cider, cheese and pumpkin. I made the mistake of asking him for the money. He decided he was coming too. I suspected that it wouldn't end well. I was right. Every item I put in the cart he grumbled about and by the time I was one item from being done he again was declaring me irresponsible because we didn't have the money to eat gourmet.
Now I don't think using hard apple cider and pumpkin to Mac and Cheese is gourmet. I saw Racheal Ray make it and it looked and sounded delicious. The kids were looking forward to it too. I asked him to get in line while I got the last item. As the kids and I walked to get the item they wanted to know why Daddy was so mean about money and they said that they were afraid of him. That broke my heart. I need to get them away from him.
When I got back and was looking for him in line he was wandering around doing math out loud. He was grumbling about money so I offered him some of mine. Yes I had money that he had graciously given me earlier in the week. Yes that is how irresponsible I am with money, I didn't use it. Finally we got in line. He then divided my ingredients into three sections on the belt. In the order of priority that he thought they were in. Again he refused my money. Finally the final item I went to get was left on the belt and he declared there was no more money and we were done. So I pulled it toward me and told the cashier that it would be a separate order. Then I added a magazine I wanted and chocolate. I was mad and I took control back from him.
Today I had an appointment with my psychologist. He hates that I go see him, he doesn't believe in them and was fired by my psychologist when I tried to get him to go. He was that much of a jerk in session that my psychologist saw no good from him coming to session. The I asked him for the birthday gift card so I could get the tickets. He flipped out and refused, then he told me I was not going to get anything for my birthday. I just got my certification for teaching and that cost $100.00 so that was my gift. He didn't want me to spend the money, I need a job so I did. Again I took control away from him.
Then he tried to tell me that the large grocery shopping i did was my birthday gift. Seriously, I don't think groceries or shopping for them are gifts. We need food to survive, I just bought food that the kids and I enjoy. Again I took back some control.
By the time we were full out fighting and he looked at me with big bug eyes and made sure that I knew he controlled the money and I had no way to get anything without him. I have no job and I have no money of my own unless he gives me some. He took back all the control. I lashed out and then realizing that I wa about to snap went upstairs. I crumpled to the floor and just cried.
Now I went in the basement to confront him because the kids were not there. I do all I can to keep them out of our problems. When I came upstairs I couldn't hide my tears from them. My daughter gave me hugs and told me she didn't know what to do. She wanted to make me feel better. My child was comforting me. My husband was doing all he could to hurt me, to the point of basically taking my birthday away from me and it is my six year old who is trying to make it all better. I hated that moment, I can never take it back. My baby should not be worried about me.
Oh and to top it off his mother, our landlord wants to do a house inspection this weekend. She knows when my birthday is, why pick this weekend after months of not coming by? All she does is point out all the things she doesn't like in the house. She tells me how I am a horrible housewife and usually mentions at least one or two ways that I am a horrible mother. She doesn't use those words but she sure does a good job of implying it, just like her son does a good job of implying that he is always right and I am always wrong.
So Happy Birthday to me, and I am getting that painting one way or another. How many pop bottles do I need to return I wonder?