It's not your business

Ron can be pretty cruel at times. 

He was sitting on his walker, I walked up to him and hugged him, then let him go.  He put his arm around me. 

I thanked him for helping me on the Bible handout, because "Not a lot of men would want to do this on a day off".  He tightened his arm around me. 

He started to speak, stopped himself, and said "I'm not going to say it."  Good, I thought.  For years Ron had a very coy way of "vaguebooking" me - saying "Oh, I just remembered something but it would upset you...." to get me to insist, and then it would be awful and terribly upsetting.  I don't play the game anymore. 

"That's a good idea" I replied. 

Then he called me by the name of a grossly obese paratransit passenger.  The guy is probably 500 pounds.  He can't even fasten his own seatbelt half the time. 

That's just hateful. 

Then he said "Oh, it's not your fault.  Right.  If you went off your medication you would still be fat.  But don't worry."  Phony tone of voice.  "I love you anyway." 

I almost stooped to his level, but I just pulled away (like he wanted, I'm sure).   I just remind myself God will make him answer for every bit of verbal abuse, one day. 

He carries on endlessly about how I'm so "offensive" to him.  He says he "deserves better" and I "make him look bad.", but he "Guesses (he) isn't a great catch anyway, being bald and all."   

Narcissism, anyone? 

"Your average woman" I told him "Would find the wheelchair more of a deal breaker."  He didn't like that one bit.  I wasn't attacking him, and I made it clear it didn't bother me. 

I'd think my opinion would be the one that mattered, considering I'm the one who married him, pretty much the way he is now.  I never, ever, guilt him or condemn him when he has a setback.   

My medication causes weight gain.  Not only that, it causes nausea and vomiting.  I can't eat the greasy, high-fat, low carb foods that did help me lose weight in the past.  It causes extreme fatigue.  I barely have time to shower, God Time, and work.  I go to bed the minute I get home, whenever I work more than a couple hours.  I don't have the time or energy to do any meal prep or workout routines. 

Everyone has carried on about "my weight gain" this year - this is weight I gained back in 2010.  I am a smaller size than I was last year.   It's like they were all blind for years, and suddenly talking about it this year. 

If and when I have the motivation, I can do the calorie counting thing (that's what Doc did).  God knows I am plenty active.  I do a lot of heavy manual labor at work.  I don't worry on that account, these days. 

Sadly, it's not just Ron.  The other day we had a pickup at Walmart. 

The paratransit company has a rule - you must be waiting where you can see the vehicle, so you can board the minute they arrive.  A lot of time is wasted when the driver has to hunt up the client.  I am always waiting at least 15 minutes before the pickup, because I hate to make people wait.  Ron and I actually fight about this, at work, because I have to take him outside. 

In this case, the driver had to look for minutes, and do a callout, falling further behind on the schedule.  Then the client came out, with a toddler. 

Kids can ride, if the passenger provides another ticket, and proper safety seating. 

The driver told the passenger she had other clients, with "stuff" in the back, as she loaded the groceries.  "They're going to work"

Oh, replied the passenger.  She got in and greeted Ron, then asked him "Where's your wife?" 

"I'm right here" I said from the front seat.  Then the woman carries on about how she didn't recognize me, I'd gotten so fat and all.   She couldn't even see me in the front seat. 

"Thank you" I replied sweetly.  "That makes me feel really special."  Oh, I didn't mean it *that way*.  Yes you did, I thought.  She wanted to carry on about my horrifying weight gain for a while but the driver asked her a question, forcing her to change the subject.  The client kept trying to go back to the topic, and the driver kept diverting her. 

I found it ironic, because the woman is riding around with a broken carseat, yet $100 in Walmart purchases.  She's obese, yet haughty about my weight gain - from several years ago. 

Guess what?  That's not your business.