…but oh the weeping

I have spent ALL DAY sitting behind my cubicle wall continually weeping, crying, blowing my nose. Thank goodness I have a cold…nobody has come to investigate my utter nervous breakdown.

It started with a fight between me and he this morning when I was dropping him off at the train…every time I think about it I cry…all day! Puffy, puffy eyes…

It was a stupid fight…one of those where I say something and he explodes. Then he says something and I clam up…crap, I hate those fights.

Gosh, I really think this living with my parents 27/7 is having a major toll on me…I get sooooo angry every day. It’s not like we just started doing it…it’s been almost 6 years now. I just continually feel like the biggest, dumbest, loser…

My parents are such slobs, clutter bugs…they wouldn’t care about living in filth if we didn’t do all the cleaning. I’ve only been covering for them since I was eight…since my Dad taught me to vacuum and to clean the bathroom (you’d think that someone’s mother might teach those skills hey? Not mine) I was always so ashamed at the way we lived that I would race around cleaning the house when they invited people over, when I was expecting my friends over. I had friends whose mothers vacuumed EVERY DAY…not once a week like I did. I have friends now whose houses sparkle…who are never afraid to have you knock on their door at a moment’s notice and come in for a visit. Not my house…not ever my house…I try to make sure people are NEVER invited…our kitchen is shameful…our walls are grey (not from paint…from lack of it).

My mother hasn’t picked up a broom in twenty years and I’ll bet she wouldn’t even know how to start the vacuum…I know exactly where she’ll be when I get home and, short of a power failure, what will be playing on the TV. She’ll be in her Lazyboy (aptly named for her) watching Oprah….EVERY SINGLE DAY FOR SIX YEARS!!! It’s really awful that I’m 33 years old and I don’t like my mother…I guess I still love her, but I don’t like her…I certainly don’t want to be like her. I really feel awful for Zeenee, because she takes a lot of shit from my mother and I know she doesn’t like her very much either. That’s an awful thing to grow up disliking your own Grandmother.

I spend every weekend cleaning my part of the house and theirs…and for what? I don’t own the house…I will never own the house…

So why do I continue to care? I think because I don’t want Zeenee and Anabella and Budgie to be ashamed of where they live…to not have friends over because the bathroom is dirty or the floor isn’t swept. I do it for them…certainly not for my parents sake…for their sake.

So that’s what all the fights have been about lately. Why can’t we escape? When will we ever have our privacy back. When will we ever have our little family of five back again…just us?

This is what I ended up writing to him today…after our second fight on the phone this time…

I’m sorry that I get mad every single day from living in a cluttered ugly hellish house that I don’t dare EVER invite anybody over to.

I’m sorry that I do load after load after load after load of laundry ALL THE TIME!

I’m sorry that you cut lawn after lawn after lawn after lawn ALL THE TIME!

I’m sorry that we spend EVERY hour of every weekend cleaning a rotten ugly house that nobody appreciates.

I’m sorry that we try to have pride of ownership and we don’t own ANYTHING!

I’m sorry that we live with the Devil and Mr. Satan and that they’re lazy pig slobs!

I’m sorry that we can’t afford to do anything else.

I’m sorry that we are continually road blocked by poor decisions that we have continually made.

I’m sorry that you don’t want to listen to me.

I’m sorry that I don’t listen to you.

I’m not sorry that I have you and Zeenee and Anabella and Budgie.

But I hate the rest of my fucking life! And everyday I want to scream and run away. But every day I just suck it all in until I’m so totally steamed that I want to explode…and I do another load of laundry and drive our kids to another activity.

Sound familiar?

…and then, in the midst of writing this, I get the following response:

I am sorry that no matter what I ever do or tried to do will ever get you to look at all that we have in a positive light.

Being married for 14 years and having 3 great kids are not poor decisions no matter what the consequences have been and will be.

And oh, more weeping…good job this box of tissues is jumbo.

Desperate to be a Housewife

Time until I’m back with my family: 2 hours, 7 minutes

Laundry List: Lots

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2 responses to this post.

  1. Wow honey…. I wish I could say it’ll get better soon, but I don’t know that it will. My fingers are crossed that your site takes off right quick (and congrats on your numbers, they are fabulous btw!) and you can kick out the slobs that don’t deserve you.

    I don’t know how you do it – I like and love my parents, but I didn’t for a long time – living apart from them is what finally did it. I would have such bad fights with my mom that violence (nothing serious, but still…) was a regular occurance. I feel your pain. I fervently wish that something in your life changes soon, because your parents aren’t worth losing your wonderful hubby over.

    Anyway, to cut the novel short, good luck and keep venting here if that’s what it takes 🙂

    *hugs*
    tara

  2. Thanks Tara…that’s all I really need is a place to vent…at least I can here.

    Things will get better after the hormones pass…and then bad again next month…infinity, infinity…

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