Not much new to report, it was a tough week.
Tuesday: Don't even remember what happened, must be good since if it was bad, I would have remembered it?
Wednesday: Good day- glad I got to go in to work and get a lot of stuff done in the lab. Saw a lot of my coworkers and got to talk about current and future projects. I like the people I work with now and I like the work we're doing. I'm competent at my job and enjoy it.
Thursday: Had MC today. Was fully honest with BH about the state of our M the past 8ish years since the vasectomy. Told him how I felt it was dead sacramentally after that time. He wonders if I actually liked him at all during the following years. Told him the truth- there were times I did. Mostly no. Told him that I didn't want the marriage to be dead, but didn't have any hope of it coming back together once he ditched me at the first round of MC. He called me on that- said if you didn't want it dead, how come you had your A? I told him that I wanted it truly dead when he was in his emotional A with our friend D. At that time, I knew that it was truly dead with no hope of resurrection- I was to be a good wife and make myself more like Deliah so he could be happy in our M.
I still get mad thinking of it. If you wanted HER so much, then go and fucking marry her .
We talked some more about why I fought him so much on how we would do the childrearing and finances. He said his example was so much better than mine (and it was) that he was confused as to why I would fight him on it. I told him that I had left my family (shitty as they were, they were my family), I had ditched my friends and joined his family. I felt like he never left his parents and cleaved to me. I felt like his parents were running our M. Whenever his mom or dad gave advice, that's what we would do. Anything I tried to put in on the way MY LIFE was going to go, well, they knew better, so that's what we're going to do. Parenting and finances.
I felt invisible, non-existent. That I had to model myself completely after them so I could have a place at their table.
During session, I told him one of the first nails in the coffin of the sacramentality was the way he refused to stick up for me with his mom. Whether or not he agreed with her "advice" (CRITICISM), he needed to set a boundary, "Thanks mom for the advice, I'll take it into consideration. WS is doing the best she knows to be a good wife/mother. I appreciate your thoughts, however, it is our marriage and she is my wife and we will decide these things together." BOUNDARIES. The whole, "leave mother and father and cleave to the wife" thing never really happened. Instead of speaking up about it in a healthy way, I screamed and got resentful.
The final straw for the sacramentality of our M was the vasectomy. His dad was pushing BH to get one like he did. The reasons were good (my PPD, my inability to handle stress of being home alone with the kids). The reasons I gave against it, like, it violates the terms of the SACRAMENT we married into... belittled as it was, "what's best for the family" and since BH knew it was so hard on me not being able to be touched let alone have sex, for 1.5yrs, if I wanted to have a tolerable M, it was the best thing for everyone. Again, he listened to his parents' advice over my wishes and against the terms of the M we agreed to. You know, the Catholic SACRAMENT.
5yrs into the M, it was dead sacramentally in my mind. Once his EA started with Deliah, I lost hope for renewing it and decided to have my A instead.
All that to say, it is easier for me to look at what BH was doing wrong than what I was. I did not know how to parent, didn't have practice managing money (but I do have good ideas on managing cash flow...). Was not disciplined (ADHD) and an unstable, emotional mess (PPD). I wanted to have more kids to prove to BH that I was a worthy Catholic wife. Not because I loved them and wanted to cherish them. I mean, I do love and cherish the ones I have, but I wanted more so I could PROVE to BH that I brought something into the marriage.
BH brought up to me about the disagreeing and fighting all the time: "I had a good example, and you didn't, so why didn't you just go along and do what we recommended?" I told him that I felt like I had lost my family and friends, had no family money or good example or experience. That all I could offer was myself. He said, "then why weren't you just grateful that we wanted you?"
How can someone be grateful when they've just been told that they had brought nothing of real value into the marriage? To me, it feels like a master telling a servant they should be grateful for what their superiors grant them while they're busy scrubbing toilets, changing diapers, cooking, cleaning and schlepping. "Just do it my way and be grateful I told you the right way to do it."
BH hates how we can have a good day and then a bad one the next. He says that there's so much negativity that just wells up. He can't trust the positivity because there's always another thing to be upset about.
Wow, basically, I hate myself to the point where I don't believe that just my own self will be enough for anyone- especially someone who has good health, good looks, good family and money. And that's what made POS AP so appealing. Sure I could be enough for HIM- all he wanted was to have sex with me and get ego kibbles anyway.
Yeah, I'm upset. I'm upset because I feel like I've been in the backseat of my M while my MIL and FIL are driving. I've been told that when I want to drive that I'm not going the direction/speed/road they want and that I should be grateful for them telling me how to run my life.
I'm not a humble person. If I was, then I would be able to honestly accept that I didn't know how to run my life. It's just, I've been told and shown and had it imprinted on me so hard that I am worthless, less than, inferior, stupid, weird, fat, ugly... unimportant, not worth being cared for, on my own and alone... All this by my father, mother and 2 sisters. How the hell am I supposed to respect BH's parents when my own were not worthy of respect? To me, anyone who outwardly had it all together were lying phonies. FIL and MIL must have been too- they were just better than my parents at hiding things.
Something really hit me tonight that BH is starting to understand the depth of the damage my childhood did to me. Something I didn't think he ever really, viscerally understood without me having to tell him. He was looking at a photo album from his senior spring break in Portugal. He was so young and carefree in the pictures. I commented, "wow- you looked so young and carefree." He said, "yeah, I was. Truly happy and carefree. I don't think you've ever had a day in your life that was carefree, did you?" "No, I didn't"
And now I'm crying. Anyway, it's a long road and been a hard one.
Does it ever get any easier?