If you go home at night, and have nothing to be grateful for or love, what is the point?
Lately, things have been turbulent in my life. I feel as though I am barely managing to stay afloat, head ducking underwater for prolonged periods, gasping for air as I resurface. My work is stressing me out, despite how much I claim to enjoy it. It is so weird, being a woman who has been shit upon, and he doesn’t even recognize it. Jake claims to be pro-woman and their choices, yet he suppresses me at every turn. I had to stare at him rather incredulously when he told me I was being sexist, by claiming that submission was a feminine thing. I simply meant that we have the wherewithal and mental prowess to pick our battles. Patience is a virtue. I can admit defeat at this battle, but that does not mean the war is over.
Love should not be about this battle and armor and exertion of will over another. I submit to Jake’s wishes, because he cannot have it any other way, and it limits the things I can do. He must have complete control, or this relationship will not work. He is emotionally stunted, but his obsession and preoccupation are endearing to me in my own twisted way. I told my coworker Linda one time, “Obviously, I like the attention, or I wouldn’t still be here.” I both rue and cherish what this relationship has come to be. I still want it, I still desire him. I have hope for our future, that with time, and proper healing, Jake could become more comfortable with me and find it in his heart to forgive me for my past transgressions.
I have enough money now that I could leave, if I wanted to. I have been prepared to do so, unfortunately. I never want to leave Jake for real, but I think about it sometimes. He is a really great guy when he is being chivalrous and kind and generous. He is truly a light in my life, despite the darkness of his past. He has truly turned his life around and he is a good-natured, helpful man of noble nature. He is brave, he helped 13 different people to safety in the most recent tornado that Moore, OK saw. He cannot abide people’s suffering, yet he inadvertently causes a lot of it in his loved one. He is a complicated man. But he is responsible, and really loving. He wants to please me, he will always ask me my opinion on things. He likes for us to have a feminine touch around the house. He appreciates my input on serious projects, like home renovation. He really is a good guy, despite all his faults. I have faith in his virtues. It would be nice if he would return the sentiment.
I am loyal to Jake. All I have done to anger him is to act as an individual, and not a unit. When I do not consider him in my decisions, it diminishes his importance in my life. He especially hates it that I continue to hide parking tickets from him. He considers it very upsetting because it “risks my freedom”. I’ll effing pay it, don’t worry about it. No need to ride my ass. Although, I will commend him thusly, because he was not awful to me about my last one.
Jake and I went to Mickey Mantles on a Monday night. It was raining lightly as we trekked over from the nearby parking and I froze myself for the sake of cuteness in a black skirt and purple top. My hubby was quite handsome and sunburned, so he looked like a working man and I enjoyed the way his blue eyes shone in contrast to his sun kissed skin. He has been losing a lot of weight recently, and actually, I am worried about him in that regard. My significant other has developed an eating disorder. He binges and purges on a regular basis. He vomits nearly everyday. Still yet, I am reluctant to really push the matter because I have also suffered from an eating disorder in my past, so who am I to judge anyone? He was grossly overweight. He knew the quickest route to lose the weight, best not to forget he also used to be a wrestler. I assume he knows what he is doing, and he does look great. He was over 300 lbs before, and he still looks healthy to me. I do address it from time to time, I always let him know how handsome I find him, and how I like him at any size. He just doubts the words I say because he values intimacy more, and when I don’t feel amorous, he is offended because he thinks it’s because of something he did. He gets upset, and he is almost impossible to soothe. This is an internal issue that he needs to work on, but I fear he will never address it. I suppose he knows what he is doing. He doesn’t want any direction from me. I have tried to get us to go to the gym for which we are already paying, and he never wants to go. And I do not really want to go, so we never go. It has been over a week since our last visit.
When I suffered from an eating disorder, I realized mine was in conjunction with some personal issues regarding my grandmother’s passing. I ate comfort food and ate and ate, and I thought it made me feel better, but then I realized I was really tearing up my life and treating myself unhealthily because I didn’t think life was worth living if her eyes weren’t around to witness what I became. I thought it didn’t matter what I became, so I sought to treat myself badly and live in darkness. I had to choose the light, to realize my life still mattered. It took counseling to get me there. It took calming my inner self and examining myself. When you are both blessed and cursed with deep thoughts, you have to try and concentrate on the best of them. You can’t let the magnitude of the bad get you down, once they tug you down, you will find it impossible to claw your way out of the darkness. But it is not impossible, you can do anything. A thousand mile journey begins with one step.
I think therapy is a good thing, so I am really friggin’ upset at myself that I can’t get myself together well enough to actually make the appointments I make. I don’t know if I have an aversion to the truth, or what the hell I am doing. Jake has not even given me any flack on the matter, and I still don’t make the appointments. Is it because I couldn’t afford it, or mainly it was just because I needed my me time. I would blow her off to sleep, or go shopping, or stay at home smoking. It’s not that I didn’t value her time, I just… had some difficulty getting there. Maybe I don’t really want to go to therapy because I don’t want to be a nutcase. Jake always makes it a point to say “psychotherapist.” The stigma makes me cringe. I do regard myself as a little weirder than I want to admit. I notice that Jake is less than sane sometimes, and I know that birds of a feather flock together.
I have trouble justifying sharing my problems with another. When I admit my failings to another, they challenge me to ask what could I have possibly done? I prefer not to share my shortcomings. I would rather others not know of my weaknesses. If people ask me why I stay with a man that makes me so miserable sometimes, I always sit there, mouth agape, what can I tell you?? I allow all this disrespect because I think it’s worth it to be taken care of, I have low self esteem obviously. Why would you want to tell other people that? It sucks to hear that you’re better than that, when you don’t believe it yourself. It makes it feel so awkward, and I would rather just avoid the matter altogether. I would rather just be treated this way, and the less people who know about it, the better. I can’t share about all the breakdowns I’ve been having, the hysterical crying episodes and high tension in the house. Drama, as my S/O likes to call it.
I can’t help it that I fall apart sometimes. I remember what it was like to be this fall apart person, and I goddamn fucking hate her. I hate her with a fiery passion, this person who wilts and weeps when another opposes her. She is weak, she believes what others tell her about herself. She is convinced they are right, and her inner light is weak, she can’t hear her inner self saying, no you’re better than this, don’t take this anymore. She trudges on down the road that makes her weep because she sees no other option. Her spirit has been beaten so far down, she thinks it will be hard to be on her own. She doesn’t want to be alone. She is weak, and he is strong. He tells her what to do, what she can and cannot do. He gives her limits, rules when before there were none. Perhaps that is what was wrong, that there were no boundaries before. Her potential was limitless, and now it has been capped off.
He provides a reasonably comfortable life, and still yet she is depressed. He does things for her, he is sweet on her, and still yet, she has things to complain about. I have tried to tell him it is just because I think too much, but he still takes offense. It’s not his fault that my mind is so hyper-wired, that I think a million things, and when his negativity rains down on me, it is amplified within me. I grow to hate myself on his behalf. I take mental swings and beatings that he could never imagine, just so he will see me cry and know that I care. He needs to see my tears to confirm my feelings for him. He makes me break down, and says I do it to myself. But obviously, if your lips weren’t flapping, I wouldn’t be feeling this bad. Don’t ask me what I’m doing, I don’t know.