I tried another post from my phone and lost it…of course my thoughts are so fleeting if they are not written and posted immediately then they are pretty much gone forever–but yes I know where that random object we haven’t needed for six months in the back corner of the garage is thanks random mommy brain!
I need more outlets. But my own stupidity has cut them off from me. I had affairs so now he is worried everytime I leave the house alone. I can’t go for a walk. I can’t take a single kid to dance or gymnastics. I can’t do anything where I might be alone long enough TO NOT BE ALONE. It is really fucking sad and frustrating. He even accuses me of being with other men on my phone when I am alone in the house too long, like in my bedroom, kitchen or bathroom.
In therapy last week I told the therapist how he had FINALLY figured out the password to my phone–I had been letting him watch me for months but he kept saying he didn’t want it or didn’t know it. I had also told him I just didn’t want him reading the intimate letters.
Well, he apparently had figured it out and read it…and then I caught him again…and I am telling the therapist this and she asks if I am ever going to be fed up with him stalking me?
HUH….we have talked about this before…so many incidents that I could name..and I do hate it…the true irony was that as I walked out of her office, he was sitting in the parking lot parked behind me.
SO…am I rationalizing that all these things are insecurities or signs of love and affection? We take psychology so seriously and to such extremes without just thinking the simplest answer might actually be the the truest. I KNOW THIS MAN LOVES ME. I KNOW HE IS INSECURE about his abilities as a lover, provider, and companion. Why doesn’t he understand we all are so just chill out?
If he didn’t worry about his insecurities so much I wouldn’t give a shit…but his thinking I care makes it worse, but we all have them! I have as many if not more than most! We are fat and we are slow, and we are poor white trash on medicaid and food stamps, I suck at keeping house, training the kids and lose my temper constantly with the kids–I am not the June Cleaver I always wanted to be, hell even Peggy Bundy was better than me. I am who I am. I just try to love myself and be as happy and peaceful as I can.
I want someone who likes to talk to me..but not who wants to keep me fenced in…I am tired of being a possession, of my thoughts being cut off or twisted around into his ideas….no matter how much he serves me to show me he loves me it isn’t going to make me want to worship him…