I keep sitting here thinking about all the bad. I just can't help it. I got into bed just before and our daughter sleeps with us so I snuggled up next to her just trying to forget everything. My husband comes in and just his presence annoyed me. I just couldn't be in the same room with him. I had to get up and leave the room. He doesn't care in the least. Even if he did know how truly upset I am he wouldn't care. It's like who is this person? Where is the person I married eight years ago?
I really must have had rocks in my head to think I could handle our life and the emotional issues I have with my mother. I should have moved out way before I got married and lived on my own. I never experienced that side of life. The side where you are your own person.
I mean I feel trapped now. Tonight I sat back in my closet cried and cried and there were so many thoughts. I almost feel like my husband doesn't have the same feelings for me as I have for him. He is so different now. Very cold. There were times when we would argue about why he can't speak to his children about being so disprespectful to us, and he would blow up at me and instead of saying ok let's have a healthy conversation about this and figure this out he would lash out at me and basically tell me that I can leave whenever I wanted.
I would tell him that I feel like a prisoner in my own home at times and I don't feel comfortable at all when the children are here lately. They have stolen things from us, they have destroyed things in our home, they have done a lot to us, but yet my husband just looks the other way and says that it is beyond our control that it will make it worse.
The fact is tonight when he argued with me and said horrible things the one thing that just sticks out and stabs me in the heart is how he is happy I am not speaking to my mother.
The sick thing is that I knew that deep down. Oh he would hate it when we would be on the phone or if I was spending a lot of time at my parents house. When I was suffering with sever morning sickness and I started to feel slightly better the only pal I could tolerate to be at was my mothers kitchen. I don't know why but I felt better there. He never understood that. Oh we'll, I'm rambling on and on now. I just wish I had a magic wand to make things better for everybody. It's just the pain that sucks. It won't go away.