It started harmlessly enough, I woke up around 4 AM with a bad headache, it progressed. I finally got up at 6:30 and took some Excedrin. It helped, but the 200 mg of caffeine in the tablets ensured I wasn't going back to sleep any time soon.
[sigh] Biscuit was happy to see me up so early, so was Baby Girl. I gave them their can of salmon and did my God time. I got on the computer for a while.
Ron woke up during my shower. He was OK at first.
Then he started drinking. I told him I was going back to bed, to take a nap.
He said OK.
He had some kind of bathroom crisis, I didn't investigate. He was cursing pretty loudly and woke me up. OK, I'll give him a pass on that.
He didn't leave a mess, but he did leave some moist wet wipes on top of my toilet paper, saturating the roll. I didn't say anything, I'm sure he had other things on his mind.
I went back to bed. I was almost asleep, again, when he started yelling at the news on TV. I did object to that, and very politely went in his room, reminded him I was trying to sleep, and stated he had just woken me up.
He went ballistic, shouting at me and calling me names, saying I was "crazy" and hallucinated him yelling at the TV, "Take a pill", basically hitting below the belt in all possible ways.
I don't think I need to explain I don't hallucinate like that. Never when I am taking my Haldol, which I had just done. Never when I am asleep or falling asleep, so I was pretty peeved. He had yelled at the TV and woken me up.
He was drunk, he had forgotten he did it, but his impulse control was shot and he was proving it with every word.
This, he decided, this terrible insult, claiming he had woken me up, could only merit one response. Verbal abuse (he didn't say that, but he was proving it), and yet more drinking. He went into the kitchen and poured more drinks. Then he made a lot of noise heating something up in the microwave, all the time shouting that he was quiet, hadn't woken me up, and I owed him an apology.
Then, later on (I'm still trying to sleep), he says he's sorry, it's not my fault I hallucinate, that God gave me "such a f-ed up brain", etc. That was even worse than the shouting.
Then, to me, the final insult, trying to tell me what was on TV "Before I came in there". Something about the president, and China. No doubt that's what he was shouting about.
"I don't care." I told him. "I just want to sleep. Will you please let me sleep?" My headache was coming back full force. Ron objected to that and shouted at me some more.
Finally I guess he got drunk enough he didn't care any more, and went to bed.
I would love to go in there and wake him up, throwing trash out his window into the trash can, but I won't because I'm better than that. Not to mention, you don't kick rabid dogs.
On a positive note, at least this time he didn't fall on the floor. I hope he is still taking his minerals because he does that a lot when he's drinking.
The stupid, stupid, thing: one day God is going to show him I was right and he treated me like crap for nothing.
His alarm is going off. This should be interesting.
Nothing so far. I guess he doesn't want any rides tomorrow. God knows I'm not going in there to break the ice.
With God's help, I don't have to be vindictive, although some might say blogging about this is, in fact, vindictive. No, that's sanity.
I don't have to stick my hand in a blender, though. I'm not approaching him until I can feel out his mood.
He just got up and thought we had to go to work. I told him it was Saturday.
Good news, I did get my nap but the headache came back with some force. I actually had to take another dose of Excedrin. My hands are going to be shaking all night.
For a while, I had 2 cats in my bed, Torbie, and Biscuit. They left me after I fell asleep. I probably rolled over and squashed them :(.
What a day.