clickmom

gas lit

Sometimes, I just....  I just  ..... I just don't understand what I am living through (railing against) here.

Background: I hate war movies- all of them across the board- forever. I hated them long before I even knew I hated them. I don't watch them, I don't discuss them, I can count on the fingers of someone's industrial accident surviving hand how many I have voluntarily seen and I guarantee it was because I wanted to spend time with my kids. On top of already hating war movies I have been obnoxiously vocal about my growing distaste for all white male casted movies. When I see movies where the women are treated as a decorative afterthought grrrrrrrrr......

So, the other night the husband puts on Cain Mutiny, and I'm not sure if he has left that channel on intentionally, though it seems as if it might have been intentional since the movie was just beginning.But with a big smile on his face he turns to me and says "I put on Cain Mutiny,!" so I try to give him a look, during which I look at him hard enough for him to turn around again and say with another smile on his face "I put this on for you, and me."  I'm gob smacked. I sit in silence waiting for him to indicate in any way possible that this has all been a joke. Nope. He genuinely thought this movie choice was a thoughtful idea.

Then, the other night (a few nights later) the husband and I start to binge watch a Netflix show. The gist is that a burned out, bitter guy goes to a spa after his co-worker (who has been on fire lately) recommends it for him. The guy doesn't know that the spa is actually cloning him, and replacing his burned out self with the clone who has all of his memories implanted with none of the despair of life's burdens. Now the clone can be an optimal version of who the original could have been. In this case, however, the original guy doesn't die like he was supposed to, but revives in a shallow grave and makes his way home where the clone has already and unknowingly (because he doesn't know he is a clone) replaced him. So, there is a big dilemma, there are two versions of the guy, each who wants to participate in the life the original man created except one is beaten down and the other one is pretty much too enthusiastic and unburdened to believe.

 

On my end, the husband gets completely confused because the show switches from the point of view of the original guy to the point of view of the clone (same actor) and the husband can't tell them apart (which is also interesting since the original guy wears over sized wrinkled sweats and looks he crawled out of the bed after a 5 day bout of stomach flu and the clone looks like he has been working out, has a killer skin routine, never slept better and has a personal shopper) despite the fact that I keep announcing THIS IS THE CLONE  or THIS IS THE ORIGINAL.  After about 6 episodes, I am all deep into the concept of having a clone and I wonder out loud...... I WONDER WHAT I WOULD DO IF I HAD AN OPTIMAL VERSION OF ME TO TAKE MY PLACE, I MEAN, WOULD THE REAL ME RISE TO THE OCCASION AND DO ALL THE THINGS I THINK I SHOULD BE DOING. The husband shrugs and then casually tosses out this mind blower.  "I AM THE OPTIMAL VERSION OF ME."

Holy crickets.

Crickets.

And more crickets.

Either he was completely serious, has the best dead pan face ever, or is legitimately insane.

 

Smiling

I woke up so happy this morning. I’ve been having this reoccurring dream that somebody I know refused to talk to me and I have no idea why. Just now I dreamed that I was walking with a third person and the woman who wouldn’t talk to me saw us and walked away. The third person went to her and I overheard the woman who wouldn’t talk to me tell the third person to stay away from me because I was mean. In my dream I was so relieved that the reason was not legitimate that I just started to walk towards my destination and smile. I was so relieved. I was smiling and laughing in my dream and then I woke up with a big smile on my face.
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WE

Lately the husband has a "new thing" and his "new thing" is using the word WE.  It gets under my skin like nobody's business.  He'll turn to me, just at the moment when I'm looking at him filled with anger and resentment because of everything, and he'll say Should WE go to the gym today? or even a more general WE should do something today. But the worst thing he says/does is when he uses WE instead of YOU. An example of that would be What are WE going to make for dinner tonight? And I just see red every time, mostly because 1. he who can't walk any distance at all literally can't do anything outside of movies and restaurant eating 2. he can't walk any distance won't accept help in the form of a wheelchair or even walker with a sitting bench and 3. it's been like for freaking ever since I have walked in the woods with sweet pea and my camera and those are really 3 of the maybe 5 things I actually want to do- I'm dying of frustration every second of every day. I don't want to be a WE with anyone, let alone someone who has the grim reaper walking two steps behind him.

I completely resent (everything lately, but this one thing in particular) him infringing on my gym experience. When I sit around and try to coax myself back into being a gym rat (like I was in stepford) the concept of dragging my disabled demented husband along for the experience....... Sorry. I know how mean it sounds but I am being real here. It spoils it for me. and not in a less satisfying way, it turns it into a fragrant rotting corpse of an idea.

In my defense, historically I have always said bitchy sounding things which weren't actually bitchy but more expressing my innate need for alone time. I used to say things like He's not allowed to retire. He can get a job he likes better but I don't want him lying around the house staring at me all day. And hence: I have been living something worse than my own personal nightmare for exactly FOUR years now. Because in the scenario where I was dreading his retirement he was actually able bodied and of sound mind. 

And when I am wondering if I'm just a bitch or if it's personal against the husband I have to admit that I might just be a bitch. Even if I imagine myself with someone is passionate about all of the things I am passionate about (photography and the gym) I wouldn't want to share that with a spouse. I think I might just not be cut out for that kind of marriage. I see people walking in the woods together, some of whom show up together every single day and I know in my heart that I'd get all claustrophobic if that was my relationship.

I have asked him not to phrase things that WE way, but let's be honest, he was incapable of respecting a request like that since the day I met him. He's not going to start now. Today he asked me what WE might do today and I reminded him of my WE issue and then I told him "I'd like to buy a camper, throw my important stuff in it and take off indefinitely." because that is my mean/angry/overwhelmed and under appreciated truth. That is the truth of someone who put her own essence on the back burner to be the kind of mother I wanted to be, always thinking my time to reclaim my own sense of self and worth would come again and when it was about to come again the rug was ripped out under me with such a swift force that I actually remained standing and continued to carry on while wondering what the heck had happened. A day doesn't pass that I am not thinking "I wish I could cut ties with this place, this house, this job of taking care of everyone but me, and go on the run so I can figure out what kind of life I want to have for me." and you know what Mr. Can't Walk / I Have A Handicap Sticker said to my cry for help / inexcusably cruel answer / bitch reply answer?  

He said "I'm good with that. I'd do that." 

Are you speechless?

Because I was momentarily speechless.

And you know, I talk so much (without thinking even!) that it is rare for me to be speechless. 

And then in my mind I pictured him falling while trying to step into a camper and I wanted to ask him if he was out of his mind imaging he could even maneuver in and out of a camper, but I kept that inside and had to tell him that I was going to run away from home alone.

And he kind of nodded, and said "Oh. Okay."  I know he has no idea that this cauldron of everything bad is simmering away right under the surface of me. Then he fell asleep in the chair in front of the TV. So I took a nap I didn't particularly need on the couch.

 

Birthday week

It’s sweet Pea’s birthday week. (Technically the birthday I assigned her is on Wednesday) but Evan’s girlfriend came by with some birthday treats for sweet pea and as you can see sweet pea went bonkers for them.

I’m happy and sad about her birthday. For one thing she is 5 now (on Wednesday) and I just hate hate hate that such an all around excellent dog such as sweet pea is going to move into her later years. Why can’t the fantastic dogs live twice as long? I don’t want her to get old. I want her to stay the same.

Secondly, when we got sweet pea and counted back 11 weeks it turned out that the day was the same day as the day my dear old friend Bob died. I can’t believe Bob has been gone for 5 years. Would you believe I still think about calling him? For 10 years before he died I’d always call him when I was on a long drive. (Needed at least an hour!) and when I’m in the car I still have that moment when I think to myself it’s an opportunity to chat with Bob before I remember. It’s a little stab to the heart every time.


I’m still out of commission with my ankle pain. The physical therapist told me the MRI showed more than just the tendon tear. It also showed plantar fasciitis and the Achilles tendinitis. I asked him if it could have been worse and he told me he once had a patient who had broken every bone in her foot. I conceded.

But then I remembered how when I broke my wrist the first time and I was 11.3 weeks into my 12 weeks of being casted and how someone’s dog jumped onto my lap and twisted my wrist around causing me immense pain and I called the orthopedist crying and he said to come right in. Then he told me the good news was that my bone was healed but that now I had a pulled something which probably hurt more. I didn’t relay that story to the physical therapist.  

Anyways, Evan’s girlfriend walked sweet pea for the first few weeks but then a dog park friend offered to take her and I’ve been driving over to the dog park and she has been taking sweet pea and I am so heart warmingly touched you wouldn’t believe it because the one who is supporting me the most here isn’t even the dog park friend I’ve helped out in the past or even the one who necessarily said she’d help from the beginning. She’s not even the dog park friend I’d consider myself being closest to. She’s just being a great person. This seems so strange to say, but I am realizing that in my immature head I kind of thought I had to put myself out there first for someone to come through for me. I really don’t keep score, I just think that the way I’ve been seeing life is by always helping others first to secure my spot as worthy of helping back. And this woman, just stepped up without that pre-investment from me. It’s been eye opening. If I were in therapy I’d be discussing my worthiness issues.

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