New Shoes

Hmm. Not sure where to begin. Maybe with some news. I have had it pointed out to me by others in my workplace that some - or depending on who is talking, all - of what I am going through these days is unacceptable for open conversation. Whatever. So I am going to talk about it here, because that's what blogging is for; and if anyone doesn't want to read about it, well, that's what your mouse is for. Now you know how I got the title for my blog.

News. Right. Well, there isn't any, actually. So now you know the rest of this will be all my personal crap and you can decide if you want to know about it or not.

I know I sound rather hostile. But actually, I feel better the past few days than I have in a long time. I'm not sure yet just how far along I am in my pregnancy; I will find out soon through ultrasound, and I suspect I am further than I at first believed. I have been very, very angry about this pregnancy. The emotional roller coaster that came with it has not helped, but in the end was probably a good thing because it made me really see how much my depression can impact those around me.

I was angry to be having another child with Mark. Not that there is anyone else I'd prefer to have one with. I just didn't want any more things connecting us. I didn't want to parent another child into the gene pool of my in-laws' family. What if the baby is like my MIL? What if I hate my child because he/she reminds me too much of people I hate? Most of all, how can I stop that from happening? Because one thing I know for sure, only I can stop it from happening. The new baby sure can't.

I was furious because Mark suggested I have an abortion. Since we haven't been talking much anyway, I didn't bother to tell him how much that hurt me. And how insulted I felt at the idea that I should give up a child to keep him, or even just to make him feel more secure, after all he has put me through.

After that, I began to think about how my Mom has stood in my way twice now when I tried to separate from him, and how she has taken his side in so many ridiculous things since we moved in, and how it's her fault I married him to start with, and that she is basically responsible for this whole mess because she laid the foundation 18 years ago.

Earlier this week Mark said he wanted me to give the baby up for adoption. Assuming it was one of his tasteless jokes by which he voices his true opinion and then gets upset when I take it seriously, I said, "That's not funny." He replied, rather venomously, "I'm not laughing."

That night I finally accepted (with my heart as well as my head) that I not only may end up raising my children alone, but that it's okay. That I have done all I can, and a whole lot more than I should have, and he is going to do what he's going to do regardless. Further efforts on my part would be not only futile, but wrong.

Rewind a bit: 

Someone rather close to both of us recently asked me what I was going to do if Mark didn't change. I told her I couldn't accept that possibility. I feel like my faith is grounded in it. And she persisted in asking what was going to happen if he didn't change. I told her I would end up calling the hospital and having him committed, because I can't take the psychotic episodes any more. They have gotten more and more frequent. I don't feel physically threatened, but it's destroying my own mental health and the boys' home environment. Besides, I can't wait until I feel physically threatened. It might be too late then.

He still lies to me. Constantly. About stupid stuff. I've given up on analyzing why. It isn't my fault. That's all that matters. The last one I caught him in was the day after the conversation just mentioned. I decided to throw him out. I tried to figure out what to say to my Mom, because I know she will harass me 24-7 until I either take him back or stop talking to her. And since I can't pay rent on my own, and I have to use her car, I couldn't work it out in my mind. I still felt I owed the boys a father, and I finally hit upon a plan to let him redeem himself. I told him I wanted him to go back to rehab.

He freaked out. He refused to accept that there was any need for accountability in our relationship. After trying to argue over the phone all day (his way of being able to hold confrontations from a distance and come up with BS while I can't see his face), he told me when I got home that he was willing to start seeing a counselor. That was perfectly fine with me, because I don't honestly think he's on drugs. I just couldn't come up with another way to make him accountable.

I contacted WOAR and SOAR both. SOAR got back to me first. Also they seemed more tailored to his needs. I gave him the number to call and set up the appointments. He didn't.

All this time the conversation was sinking deeper and deeper, and I was making myself think about a future that might not involve Mark. What I need to do to gain independence financially. My income has been our only income for two months now, and he has paid the rent this month through odd jobs for my parents. We can't get the groceries we need. I finally broke down and applied for food stamps again, and added that to my long list of things I hate myself for. It's something my whole family is fiercely opposed to on a moral and ethical level. I just can't come up with any other options. We still won't get them for another 2-3 weeks anyway. Basically, right before his first paycheck from the job he's getting back this month along with his license. Better late than never, huh? Not so much. And I applied for EIC as well, something else I've been taught is dishonest and immoral. Who knows if that will go through. The last time, they applied it to Mark's unpaid taxes. This time, I filed separately.

When he said he wanted me to give the baby up for adoption, I think the last little piece of my "Can I justify cutting him loose?" died. All I said at the time was that we weren't going to discuss the baby any more. The next day I had another conversation with the same person. She gave me a book about codependency to read, and told me some of what she had gotten out of it. I took it, privately feeling that no amount of further information can help at this point. She told me that if she were in my shoes, she would be seeing this baby as another sign from God that Mark and I need to be together. I certainly have. And begun hating God, for the first time in my life. I no longer have the option of believing He isn't real. That's hurt more than anything else.

She said that maybe we are wrong. That this could be God forcing me to evaluate myself and my own responsibilities, independent of Mark, and decide how I am going to proceed for my children.

That was a new take. I decided not to make any decisions right away. Just stop talking and stop worrying about him, and wait and watch. Stop counting on him. Stop letting him talk to me about things I feel are counterproductive. Like his mother.

His brother called him that afternoon. The one who hates us and treats him like crap. Mark said he was bawling like a baby. He has had some catalystic occurrences in his own life, and made the wise decision to seek counseling. He always was a how-can-I-fix-this type, rather than a how-can-I-bury-this type, like Mark and their mother both are. He told Mark a lot of things that I have been saying for sooooo long. Things that have fallen on deaf ears. As Mark recounted them, I was thinking, "Thank God he's finally hearing it from someone else."

Quite the contrary. He lashed out at his brother, at least when talking to me, for holding their mother responsible for any of her actions. He went on a rant about why she is justified for all the wrongs she has ever done, and it finally went so far off course that it no longer made any sense at all. He defended her treatment of him because she was so young when he was born. (She was 20.) He defended her treatment of his brother because she was still pretty young then. (She would have been 30 when said brother was old enough to start remembering things.) He cast accusations at his brother and at me for thinking that at the fragile, ripe age of 53, she should have to start dealing with all this crap NOW!

I refrained from asking at what age he felt she should have been held responsible. Instead I asked him if it had ever struck him as odd that he thinks he is such a terrible person, and hates himself so much; and yet defends those who have done so much worse to others around them?

He replied angrily that he wasn't going to have some kind of breakthrough on the phone with me, and this was all BS. We ended the conversation.

That night he picked a fight with me about my social skills, of all things. He never picks fights with me. He typically refuses to even have face-to-face confrontations about anything at all. When I tried to defend myself by pointing out some of the efforts I had made to mend this problem, and how he had interfered, he said, "Oh that's just great. Now all your problems are mine too in addition to everyone else's. Whatever. Our relationship is f---ed anyway."

I asked him what he was going to do about that. He wouldn't discuss it.

I decided not to let myself get wrapped up in self-righteous resentment this time and just try to calmly observe. I admit to having a long, long list in my head of all the problems in my life that I can justifiably blame on others - mostly his mom, my mom, June, or him - and a perfectly accurate analysis of exactly how and why they are responsible for it. But it doesn't change anything. I realized at some point this past week, that the reason I feel the need to blame others is merely to justify not fixing the problem myself. And there are reasons why I have not previously believed I had a right to do what needed to be done, for which some of those people on my list are the cause. But all it really comes down to now is, will I let them continue to stand in the way? And the fact that I have already done so is on me.

So I stopped talking back and just let him vent. When he started to shut down again and apologize resentfully, and I told him to keep talking. That none of our problems will EVER go away if we can't at least say how we feel. And I know that I've been saying how I feel for a very long time. It bothers me that he never says how he feels. Now that he's started, I don't want to shut him down just because I think it's unfair. If our relationship is f--ed anyway - which it is, the one we've had in the past certainly is, and has been for a while - then we have nothing to lose and he has something to gain by letting it out.

I don't think we will make it through this pregnancy without separating. I still hope that we will be able to rebuild. But for the first time, it's okay with me if we can't. I will always love Mark. Lately that love has become more like the love I have for my siblings though. I want them to be happy, to find what they need in life, to do well. But it isn't my responsibility to make that happen. I have my children to care for. And that's what I'm going to do. Mark has to follow his own path, and end wherever it ends.


Addendum:

That's what's been happening this past month and more. I decided that I was going to let things lie until the end of March, and try my best not to have any deep conversations between now and then. I do know from a logical standpoint that much of his behaviour right now is due to the worry over his job and license. We should know what's happening with both by the end of the month and whether or not he is going to hang in there mentally. There is still the problem that he cannot rely on what's around him to keep him going if he is really going to heal; but I'm no one to throw stones in THAT department. This morning I wasn't going to ask him to go to church. He only started going to make me happy, which means it isn't truly helping him. So I was surprised when he got ready to go all on his own, even though it was - AAAAAGGGHHH! The Fellowship Luncheon Sunday! Then he squashed my good feeling by saying something about adoption again. Good thing I hadn't gotten my hopes up.

I wasn't going to say anything, but I did. It's hard for me to keep my mouth shut. I told him if he didn't want to take responsibility for this baby, that was fine, but I would. I'm not sure why that surprised him, since I've been feeling that way since I found out, but for some reason it seemed to really hit him like a brick. He said, "What are you saying? That I can just leave?" I said, "Yeah, pretty much. I know you didn't want kids, I know you might not be able to deal with this, and if you can't then that's on you. But I'm going to."

He came over and tried to hug me and was all like, "Oh come on, you know I won't leave you high and dry. I'll do my best." And I started crying but I needed him to know where I stand. So I told him that I don't want him to stay if he's going to resent the baby and me and be angry about the added responsibility. That I can take care of the kids myself at this point, as long as he doesn't get in the way.

He apologized for what he had said and promised not to make any more stupid comments. We'll see. I don't think he knows what he wants now, and neither do I, and I think it's going to take him a while to find out even if he starts actively looking right now. What will happen in the meantime I don't know and can't change, except as it affects me.

I started reading the book after we got home, and the first thing that hit me in the way she described codependents, is that my mom is severely codependent. I don't know why this makes me feel better, and freer, but it does. I understand why we can't get along now, and why she guilt-trips me so much, and I'm glad I realized it because I can see where I am about to destroy our relationship if I'm not careful. I think this is what my sister has come to understand when she tried to tell me recently that I needed to let Mom give me her advice just so that she feels better. My sister just didn't realize that I am also codependent and that's why Mom's constant advice drives me insane. She doesn't feel guilt-tripped by it, because she's NOT codependent and therefore it rolls off when there's no good place for it to stick. I feel resentful and put-upon because I allow myself to believe that I am actually wrong for not doing these things. Problem is, I already tried them all and then some. And it didn't work.

I have a little more to add, but Andy is sick and calling for me. I will finish the last paragraph tomorrow.  

Falling Shoes

This past month has been insane. I didn't mention it earlier just in case people might be reading my blog anonymously who shouldn't hear about it, but my parents were robbed in early January. While everyone was away. Of somewhere around $12,000 it sounds like. The thieves used gloves and had suspiciously little trouble locating everything they took. And I suppose since they made out so well the first time, they came back for more last weekend. This time they stole from my siblings who had savings and valuables hidden in their rooms.

It has really made me angry. And discouraged. And frustrated, because we need a target and don't have one. Only some theories, mostly involving people my loudmouthed braggart little brother has associated with. My parents found out some things about his recent activities that have shocked and hurt them deeply, and he has really shocked me with his blatant contempt and hatred of our parents since all of this happened. I am not going to go into that any further online though. I'm just heartbroken, for him and for my parents.

The police don't seem to take it seriously at all. They would have loved to pin it on Mark in the beginning, since he's the only one in the house with a record and they remember him; but since there was absolutely no evidence pointing his way they couldn't. And now they just seem to be waiting for us to tell them who did it.

I guess I thought the curse that follows Mark around would have been squashed by the love and happiness at my parent's house. But it looks like it bit them instead. It certainly hasn't been good for his mental health. And having no paying work since the first week of January hasn't either. Finally last weekend my parents told us we could go ahead and move into the cabin rather than waiting for my brother's family to vacate the apartment. They are trying to separate him and my little brother, just like I've been trying to do since we moved in, and I am all for it. I like the cabin much better anyway.

The same day of the second robbery, I decided it was time to stop living in denial and take a pregnancy test to confirm that my sore boobs and sudden abnormal morning appetite were really what I thought they were. Oops.

I hope if any family members read this, they will keep it under their hats - and especially off of Facebook - because Mark isn't ready to tell his family yet. Since some of his siblings are still socially connected to some of mine, and since I work with his cousin, that means keeping it quiet for now. Not that we need any more freaking drama in the family than there already is. As for my in-laws, I would just as soon they find out from the birth announcements; but whatever. I'm being mean, I know.

I was hoping not to get pregnant for another year at least. But since I am, it's hard to be too upset. I think maybe those mother hormones won't let you really be mad about it. But I'm very worried about money. And hoping for a girl. :) Andy had just said the day before that he thought he would like to have a sister. And when I told my friend about it she said her daughter, who is very weirdly in tune with things, asked "What's her name?" Lol. Plus, I had a feeling from the beginning. I just didn't want to believe it. I feel totally different with this one than I did with Andy and Hunter. Not only no morning nausea, but also a voracious morning appetite - which is very unusual for me at any time.

Hunter has gotten all clingy and needy all of a sudden; hehe. I guess it's that sixth sense little kids have. I told him this morning I think he might have a sister, and he was so excited. I'm hoping he isn't talkative enough yet to tell everyone. I'm only about 5 weeks along, so I've got a while before it really gets noticeable.

All of these things sort of brought about a catalyst for Mark and I, which I won't go into much here, except to say that he finally admitted he needs to seek counseling. I hope I can get that started next week. I've left messages, but still no calls back and now it's the weekend. I am a little annoyed. But whatever. We also agreed that it was time to pull the boys out of school, since we owe them so much already and can't afford to go another month. When I told the director, she reached out and got the board to scholarship the rest of the year!! I couldn't believe it. We just have to pay what we already owe by the middle of May. I'm so grateful I could cry.

He is supposed to go back to work for the HVAC company on March 1st, and I am praying and hoping all works out for that. In the meantime, I am really concerned since we need rent and groceries, and my income doesn't cover both. And his first paycheck won't be until mid-March. I just hope we get something between now and then. He wants to apply for a night job, but it may take a week to find and then we wait another 2 weeks for THAT check, and what to do in the meantime? I just have to hope that God has something in store for us.

I hope this pregnancy goes easier than the last couple. I will be watching my sugar intake carefully, so as not to end up with another 10lb 7oz baby like Hunter, lol. But our babies are big, and I have no waist. The last trimester is brutal on me. And any ideas I had about cutting my hours back over the summer are dashed by the fact that two of my coworkers are also pregnant, due in June and July. They will be out all summer, during the busiest months of the year in this business, and they are two of the anchor people. So everyone else is to take on MORE hours, not less. What to do with the boys over the summer, I'm not sure. My grandmother is coming to live with my parents, and she requires constant supervision because of her failing health and advanced Alzheimers, so I really hate to have my mom watching them. If I quit my job, it's going to make my bosses very unhappy.

I'm praying that the Lord not only has answers, as He always does, but that He is planning to share them with me before I freak out.