Tuesday, October 30, 2007

(Warning: If you're looking for a lift, read somebody else's blog today. This is not the one to do it.)

I live in a toxic environ- ment. My husband is so consumed with bitterness and hostility that relating to him on anything but the most superficial level is impossible. He blocks most everything I want to do, objects to whatever I suggest, and ridicules every attempt I make at optimism, calls it "magical thinking." He loses his temper with the slightest provocation, and has forgotten how to express himself without swearing.

If I weren't already conditioned to walk gingerly on egg shells, we would not have stayed together as long as we have. I'm also adept at keeping my distance, creating an oasis in the midst of this God-forsaken desert, and preoccupying myself with pastimes I enjoy.

Recently, he's begun to invade my space more and more, and when he does, he pollutes it. If he goes to his office while I'm in mine, I have to either shut the door between him and me, or go downstairs to avoid the inundation of obscenities that issue forth from his foul mouth as he struggles to cope with whatever he's trying to do on his computer. The simple task of checking e-mail usually agitates him enough to start the profanity. Even though I've asked him not to disturb my peace, he usually "forgets."

And then he wonders why I never want to spend time with him. Spend time with him doing what? Watching the vulgar comedians he enjoys on Comedy Central? Sitting through a 90 minute movie that would have no dialogue without all the expletives? I usually spend an hour or so with him while "Hardball" and the evening news are on. Even then, his muting of the commercials, and not turning the sound back on in time to hear the program are not enjoyable.

I've grown contemptuous of him, and he's very antagonistic toward me. The tender feelings of compassion I've felt for him and his condition are becoming fewer and further between. He makes very few attempts to be pleasant and to pay attention whenever I talk. A call on his cell phone always trumps what I'm saying, and God forbid I should interfere with his symbiotic tie to that plaything. It's like Linus and his security blanket - he can't function without it, goes ballistic if he happens to misplace it.

Since he discovered text messaging, he's sending silly text messages to his friends all day long. Most of them are working full-time and don't have nearly the free time he has to "play." Whether they consider it invasive or not, I don't know, but I would.

a vacation.
3 more days!

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