I look in the mirror more and more and wander how I allowed myslef to turn into this person. How I put up with his behaviour.
Im not in a violent relationship and I certainly wouldnt call it abuse but his understanding of how the world works and what behaviour he thinks is acceptable is driving me quite mad. How he reacts to traffic, other peoples vague non personal comments, other people being nice or not is way out of proportion to a normal person. He then goes down a teenage girls road of behvaiour of pulling up everything else that was ever wrong in the history of wrong wrong d'wrong......
Today we went from me saying a friend has asked if he was ok to that person being a wanker and not a friend - why did they ask me instead of him, me be being a wanker for talking about him!>!>!> , we should close the business, to I don't do enough work and get enough work, to what's the point, we are down to our last however many tens of thousands ( shit the bed - call the social now!) to ignoring me totally and just barking orders.
Of course I help no end by not entertaining any of it and even on occassion laughing - it seems to be all my body allows me to do with out resorting to violence. I mean I am a vaguely normal human ( so my mother tells me) a 46 year old woman... only 8 year olds act like this! And yes we have all sorts of stresses and pressures and illnesses to deal with - so does ever other person on the planet... making everyone else the enemy and never willing to admid your own failings is stunning as a grown man.
The sad thing is , it just makes me care less and less. Everytime he looses his temper ( usually about a about a fart in the wind) I become the enemy yet again. Once I am deemed 'forgiven' for pointing out the behaviour or shock and shudder the horror of not tolerating it, life goes on.
We do talk once he has calmed down, he says sorry and onwards.
The me of 12 years ago would laugh a lot at the me of now.
Why is it we cling on to the occassional nice things that make it all worth while or the shared history, or dare I say it the house or the family when relationships should be mostly nice and the occassional bad. Somewhere along the line I allowed the balance to tip.
I am a total tit and need to remove my head from my arse.