bliss-sad's Diaryland Diary

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Things have been so hard at home. Between grieving, car trouble, stressing about money, stressing because I'm the only one stressing about money and tensions rising between my husband and I, it's been a rough week or two.

Or three or four...

I'm losing touch with the concept that we were a happy couple once. I feel like a rope that's fraying on both ends, trying to hold everything together for us, trying to figure things out, but I feel like I don't have help. If I don't come up with a plan to get things back on track, then things will stay where they are.

Example: Our basement flooded once over the summer and it caused the pilot light on the water heater to go out. My husband tried to light it once, but he couldn't reach it or couldn't figure it out and decided to just leave it alone. I guess his theory was that if the wick was wet, then it just needed time to dry. He took a cold shower that night in preparation for work and went to bed.... For four days after that, we went without hot water. The first day, he still couldn't light it, but didn't do much to explore the whys and hows. (Meanwhile, I trekked over to my parent's house to wash up, because I am not accustomed to taking cold showers.) Day two came and went. He might have looked it, he might not have. Day three was the same. When day four arrived, I was so annoyed I couldn't think straight. Not only was the problem not fixed, but he hadn't even investigated to see if it was something we needed to call out to fix. I finally called my father, who came and lit our pilot light within twenty minutes. It may have been soaked, but it was far more likely that the match-head used in the first lighting attempts didn't reach the wick of the pilot light. We were without hot water for four days, and if I hadn't called my father, it could've been much longer.

The point I'm trying to make is that Devon gets complacent really, really easily. He doesn't seek out ways to fix things that are broken because he spent his entire childhood and adolescence trying to adapt to things that were broken---things he couldn't fix because they were so far out of his control. The problem that I'm dealing with (and growing resentful of) is that the problems we face in our relationship today are in our power--very much in our power, but instead of seeking out ways to fix them, he just adapts.

It didn't matter that there was no hot water because he could still clean himself in cold. It doesn't matter much to him that the car is broken because he's still getting to work and he's not putting his job in jeopardy by arriving late and leaving early every day.

So, if I don't find a solution for his stupid fucking car, then it will probably just sit in our yard until it falls apart or I get fired and free him up a working vehicle.

Conversations about his plans to fix it have all gone the same:
Me: Have you thought about what you're going to do with the car?
Him: So-and-so said they'd look at it.
Me: Have you talked to him?
Him: Not yet.
Me: Are you going to?
Him: Yeah.
Me: When?
Him: Soon.

That's usually about the time I have an overwhelming desire to beat my heat against the nearest wall until I'm unconscious, so that's where it always stops.

I'm not surprised that he hasn't called anyone about it. I doubt he will.

The truth is, I can't really count on my husband for much of anything, especially lately, so his car will probably sit exactly where it is until I figure out how I'll get us out of this one.

Because of, well, everything, I find myself questioning our relationship in a way that I never have before. I find myself thinking, "This is how it has been, is this how it will always be?" There's a tone of anger behind it--of frustration and resentment. It's not fair. It's not fair to always have to fix things, to hold them together.

It's not fair that I can't count on my husband--my partner--to help me out with something and to actually follow through. It's not fair that I'm constantly making myself sick from stress and worry while he gets to sleep securely at night, knowing it's all going to be okay because I'll make it okay.

I don't know what to do about it anymore. His complacency is costing us money that we desperately need allocated difference places and he doesn't seem to be the slightest bit concerned with anything going on.

It's not fair, and if this is what it is, then I have serious doubts about whether or not I can do this.

When Devon's mom was alive, she used to discuss the choices that she'd made in her life. The two things we talked about more than anything else were her regrets for not being an involved, present parent to Devon and her reasons for divorcing Devon's father (one issue she cited was that she felt like he didn't care about anything. She said there were several reasons, in all fairness, but this is one of them that always stood out to me as a red flag), and I've been thinking about that a lot. If Devon has even half of the complacency and inability to act as his father, then I understand why she left him. I understand why there came a point when she realized that she couldn't live the rest of her life being the only one who cared... Who would want that? Who would want to dedicate themselves to helping someone who won't even help himself?

9:07 a.m. - 02.11.15

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