It's been a while since I had a "straight" marriage complaint. I don't mean sex, I mean a plain complaint.
Overall, Ron is pretty good to me lately. I don't help him with alcohol, he is avoiding strong alcohol, avoiding the chat line, etc.
Tonight he was yelling at me about a bad smell in the kitchen, blamed some dirty dishes in the sink. I was pretty annoyed. I rinsed everything very well before I put it in the sink. I said "Maybe I need to clean out the fridge". He said no. I asked him, "Did you check the trash?" and he said no, then went on a tirade.
I finally told him, if they bothered him so much, he could do them himself. He really doesn't understand depression, or side effects from psychotropic medications. It's very frustrating. If I try to explain, he thinks I'm "making excuses".
It brings me great comfort, in my faith, to realize that one day God will show him the truth and he will be horrified at his ugliness and judgements. I'm also wise enough to realize this is a spiritual attack.
Anyway, I ran the garbage disposal, opened the cabinet door, and sure enough, it's the trash. It reeks. So, in addition to the hours I spent picking up today, I had to take out the trash.
Ron came back out and I said I'd rather not talk. He said he wouldn't yell, which lasted maybe 3 minutes. I told him, it was the trash, which you just told me I didn't need to take out. Notice how it smells better? I just took out the trash. Everything in "my" sink was rinsed off before I put it in there.
Cue "You never do anything around the house" tirade. I said, "Who spent an hour mowing the yard yesterday?" [while he slept, I might add] I told him I had also spent over an hour picking up the front room so he would have "clear pathways" and a easy place to put things for work.
He said he wanted me to put all the dishes away; and I told him, "You have a choice, clear pathways, or an empty sink". "I don't want to choose" "Well, you have to, I only had the energy for one". Then he had a tantrum.
I said, you have plenty of energy. Why don't you do the dishes? You know I have problems with housekeeping. You can do dishes and help me pick up.
No, that's MY job. In addition to everything else in the world. Grr.
I had planned, before all this, to get rid of some stuff in the computer room - throw it out, take the can to the curb tonight. I will do that.
It just really burns me to hear him griping; with absolutely no understanding, or desire to understand, my problems. If I try to tell him "I'm depressed" he turns it into an attack on my faith. "A loving God wouldn't curse you like this, He must really hate you."
I am REALLY sorry I "let" him sleep earlier when his alarm went off to make a trip for tomorrow; but I can always get away on the bus.
Ugh. I never complain about the thermostat, never move it. He wants $100 electric bills in the middle of summer which means I sweat all day. I never complain about helping him read things, looking up things online, playing songs he wants, downloading music for him, helping him find lost flash drives, making sure he is still lugging around his talking book machine so he doesn't leave it somewhere, I do all the yard work, running around "serving" him at work every day, doing all the heavy lifting, policing him so he doesn't pick up anything heavy (he will blackmail me and say "Oh, you don't want me to go to the hospital if I try to lift this" and he's not kidding. "If you don't get it right now I'll try to pick it up"), cleaning up his messes, cleaning up cat puke when he overfeeds the cat, playing fashion police and making sure he is clean and presentable when we're out in public, etc. Never. I never complain. I never get resentful. I just do it because I try to have empathy. It must be a pretty powerless position.
The worst I will do is say "I can't do that right now, but in a minute", then I finish the urgent task and do Ron's less urgent one (find the soda I dropped on the floor, what soda is this? Separate the changer money for me).
If I were a pettier woman, I'd stop doing his laundry for a few days. "Oh, I don't do anything? You said I didn't do anything. Wash your own clothes, then." Even the other blind vendor at work knows how to do laundry.
I'd just like a little sympathy, and understanding, instead of cursing and vicious attacks on my faith.
When we see my doctor, I am flat-out going to ask doc to describe what a depression does to energy levels, and how FAS can affect mental processing on things like housework. If an "expert" says it, Ron will have to believe it. He doesn't want to admit I'm "defective", because that means he got a broken woman instead of a "good, normal" woman who could do everything and smile.
Edit: he came out later and sat in the wheelchair, drinking a beer. I reminded him I had done hours of yard and housework this week, while he lay in bed sleeping and watching TV. "That doesn't matter" he said, "Because the sink is full".
I told him he'd mind pretty quick if I stopped doing his laundry or grocery-shopping. I said, I'm not going to do that, I'm just making the point that I do a lot you don't even notice. Once, I think, in the 90's, he cleaned the toilet.
I decided I was going to pick up the computer room, anyway, because I wanted to get some junk out of the house. I did that and Ron kept saying "Don't do it on account of me." I told him, I'm not. He said "I don't want to control you" and made some comments about "accepting" and "settling" and living with me being marginally better than assisted living.
I just kept picking up junk. I have a rolling backpack with a broken strap. I don't need it. I have a rolling duffel bag. So I put it in the chair outside for the junk man.
I came back in and filled up a whole trash bag with some clothes I've had for over 10 years, and never worn. Something spilled in the closet and they had a bad odor, so I just threw them out. They weren't valuable by any means. I found a computer mouse and asked Ron if he wanted it. I have a touchpad on this laptop (a refurbished gift from Dad when he traded up).
Ron's like, what? I said "If you want it, it is your problem to store and organize. I don't want it in the computer room. If you don't want it, I'll throw it out." "Oh, don't throw it out!" He ran to put it in his man cave. I took that bag outside.
I found some empty soda bottles and threw them into a small trash can, then took that out. When I came back in, the same guy, who an hour earlier, was complaining about me picking up - "You're going to let in mosquitos".
What? "Well, when I leave the door open at night you say I'll let in mosquitos." I said, I'm not leaving the door open. I'm going in and out. And, the mosquitos always bother me. If I'm home they bite me because they like me better.
So, he's telling me, not to clean up at night now! I thought that was really ironic. He didn't even get it. Then he made sure to tell me that I had to do better, blah, blah, blah.
Not once did he say "I want to understand what it's like for you. Heather, I don't understand but I'd like to. Maybe we can think of some things I can do to help you out." No. When I tried to explain depression he shouted me down and said he didn't to hear, I couldn't do as well as a normal woman, I was fat, etc.
Then he went to lie in bed and drink, after lecturing me about "laziness and proper time structure".
He doesn't even see the irony.
I'm really sick of his "fat" comments too. He is a hypocrite. He wants to complain about how he "Deserves better" and "Everyone will think the blind man had to settle for the fat woman". Then he wants to take me out to places that have very limited low carb options and complain I'm not "Any fun" if I say I can't eat there.
Ugh. I get it: he has self-esteem issues. He "copes" by looking down on me. "Oh, Heather can't do this, and can't do that. She NEEDS me. She will never leave me." He did tell me once he thought about life without me and almost had a heart attack.
I just wish he would think of that more often, and be appreciative.
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