No Good, Very Bad Day

I woke up on the annoyed side of the bed today.  Perhaps some of it was left over from my argument with my husband.  Perhaps some of it was from the first words I heard being Leah whining about something or other.  Perhaps I'm just pmsing.  Perhaps it was just one of those no good, very bad days.

I walked out to the car and left to work only to discover my front passenger side tire was flat.

Thankfully Andrew wasn't working, so I took his car to work.  An electrician came into work and informed us of a fire happening in our clusterfuck of cords.  I was overly annoyed with the fact that he turned our power off for half the day.

Tired and annoyed with the kid I'm training at work, I got in my car to come home only to be rear ended in bumper to bumper traffic.  No damage to me (probably because I was in my husband's car), but she had a hole so we waited for the police.  While waiting I discovered my license was not in my purse.

I had reached the end.  I was frustrated.  I was tired.  I just wanted to go home.  And now I didn't have my license.  I called Andrew again for some magic words only to be told to pray to God.

and I lost it.

'Pray to God?'  I yelled.  'What can He do now?  Can He make my license drop out of the sky?  What can He do for me?"  oh, and enter expletives where you think they'd sound remotely unnecessary, because I'm sure I said them there.

Andrew hung up on me, fittingly.  I would have hung up on me too.  I started seething into the setting sun, hating life when I realized how horrible I had sounded.

I put God in a box.
I assumed because He couldn't make my license appear He could not do anything for me.
I didn't want to pray to Him because I wanted my way, right away.

But He's bigger than me.  And thankfully He sent us a cop who didn't even blink when I said I didn't have my license.  He put me in Andrew's car so I wouldn't get hurt in an accident.  He is bigger than I can ever imagine, and probably will ever imagine.

I get pissy way too often.  I'm quick to yell and quick to blame, and who's easier to blame than God?  My hope is I can take this lesson from my no good very bad day and change my outlook.

I'm tired of it

Shell from Things I can't Say hosts a day to spill all you can't say.

I'm tired of arguing with my husband.  I'm tired of him not listening to me.  I'm tired of being blamed for everything.

Take last night as an example.  He went out with his friends (again).  On Tuesday it was the second time this week.  I already fought and lost the whole 'going out an obnoxious number of times' battle, but the scars are still deep within me. I'm sure I twist and over analyze it, but to me it just seems like he'd rather not spend time with me.  I mean yesterday he woke up from napping on the chair to go out.  He wouldn't wake up to spend time with me.

Anyway, back to this fight.  I gave in on acting like a college kid again, but I asked him to compromise with me and try to be back by midnight.  That way I can sleep better knowing he is not driving.  That way I can sleep better knowing he is home in case something crazy happens here.  I give a little and he gives a little.  Makes sense, right?

Well apparently not.  He says since I'm just asleep then what's the point of him being home.  So I don't sleep well most nights.  And I guess I get into the wife nagging stage with him.  Back to last night.

12:30am I texted him asking when he would be home.

He texted me telling me I should trust him more.

I replied saying I worry about myself and the girls being home alone too.

He texted I should just trust God more.

I told him God gave me a husband to protect me.

Andrew's words: "Fuck you Christy.  Ill never hang out with friends again."

I'm done.  I give up.  I can't fight with him anymore.

This morning my wedding rings felt tighter as I slid them onto my finger.  I think we need counseling, but he's so great at twisting it onto me, he has me thinking I'm the one who needs help.  I'm the one with all the problems and all his problems come from having to deal with me.

We haven't even been married four years, and I'm tired.

I'm Not New

I'm not new to all this.  I have been blogging for about a year and a half.  I fell in love at first sight with the idea of putting my thoughts to the internet, to answering random questions posed by people I could not see, to meeting instant friends brought together by our love of doing this, here.

I started pouring out into my first blog.  I so very much wanted people to read it that I shouted it at the top of my lungs.  I posted links on Facebook.  I told my friends.  I told my parents.  I even took them to the site.  And then I wrote my first honest piece, only to be told from my Mom that she feels sad when I write about being upset.  I felt stuck in how far my content could go.

Then I created a new blog.  I didn't scream it as loudly.  I didn't actually tell my parents about it, but I linked to it from my old blog.  I flooded my former writing space with links to my new writing space in hopes that some of my 300+ followers would follow.  I wrote more honestly thinking less people who personally knew me were reading it.  One post I opened up about some childhood feelings only to receive an anonymous comment that sounded eerily family to my mom.  I felt stuck again.

So here I am.  Anonymous.  And yes, I totally get the irony of having to go anonymous to truly be myself.  Here I will be true.  I will never shy away from a subject.  I will never leave a question unanswered.  I am a very honest person, and finally I can be that here.

And anyways I still have that second blog that I can fill with sweet nothings, if nothing but for my mom's benefit.