Wednesday, December 21, 2016

Make up, sure.

He started speaking again yesterday, but it didn't take long to figure out that it was only so he could bitch at me and run me down. I got a few more hours respite by poibing out that it was so much better around here when he was refusing to speak.
But today he pretended to make up again but by this evening all he wanted to do was bitch about politics and how stupid I am to be upset over what has happened to this country with it being taken over by deplorables. Went on until all I could do was sit and cry; I am crying now just thinking about it.
Course, once I was reduced to a quivering, crying lump he was happy and then wondered why I was so stupidly upset over politics.
I swear, I fantasize about being free of this abuse. I an sure it will never happen though. His mother was totally negative and mean until the end of her life and he learned his relationship behavior from her. She DID however start having strokes toward the end, and once she couldn't talk anymore, he started to go visit her. Before that, he hadn't seen her in years because NO WAY would he put up with being treated the same way he treats others.

Monday, December 19, 2016

Standard abuser behavior

I read an article today about how the Trump uses standard abuser behavior to get his way, and it made all kinds of bells and whistles go off on my head.
Refusal to compromise on anything; willingness to go to war over the smallest slight. Check.
Exaggerated horrible behavior so that a return to everyday meanness and malice seems benign by comparison. Check.
Micromanaging, ordering about, mansplaining, general distrust of anyone's ability to do ANYTHING right. Check.

It is truly amazing. My spouse says he is totally against the Cheeto and everything he stands for. But his behavior and attitudes make that a big lie.

Tonight he sat down at the table and ate the butternut squash soup and homemade dinner rolls at the same time and place that I did. Wonder of wonders. Although he did make it a big point to say that there wouldn't be conversation that would prevent me from continuing to do what I please. I nearly choked on a snort. Yeah right, like this is happening for me to do what I please. He can play his silly games if he wants to, but I just don't feel like participating. I didn't bother to answer. After all, what is the point?

Sunday, December 18, 2016


I did continue to cook for both of us though. Thursday night he drove me away from the table and wouldn't let me eat, so since then, I cook, I bring it to the table, and I sit down. I sit there long enough to understand that he still won't eat with me, and I start eating. He fills his plate and takes it elsewhere to eat. If I quit cooking for both of us, I would no longer be in total possession of the moral high ground. So I will continue to do so, at least as long as I am not too weak from cancer treatments.

Still not speaking.

It has now been since Thursday evening that Bill has refused to speak to me. This means he knows nothing about what happened at the dentist on Friday, nothing about any phone calls or mail, nothing about when I go to various doctors again. Doesn't know or care that UHC is now refusing to pay for the breast biopsy, which was preauthorized and delayed once to jump through the ins co hoops. Doesn't know or care when or how I will be having surgery and radiation. Doesn't know or care, period.

Saturday, December 17, 2016

Bill's latest snit

3rd night in a row that he has refused to eat at the same table with me, and hasn't spoken since night before last. Getting fairly ridiculous. Tomorrow night I guess I just won't cook. See if that can get a reaction.

Monday, September 26, 2016


Every time I think I'm going to be able to stop drinking, he has one of his screaming, spitting, foaming-at-the-mouth fis about something, anything, and I realize once again that I can not live here with h without being anesthesized.

Friday, May 27, 2016


Dont forget the most telling problem of all. He just can't stand the fact that I prefer to sleep with my bedroom door closed. It means that he can't control what I am doing in there-sleeping- and has a meltdown about it every few days. I don't care. I have a right to be out from under his  thumb at least when I sleep.


The only thing I can do at this point is fell. I am drinking too much in effort to cope with the way he treats me, plus my blood pressure is way too high and fibromyalgia hurts me practically all the time.I am a wreck, and all he is interested in is either yelling at me or glaring at me all the time. He has shit fits if I sew at all, if I read when he is not reading, if I try to watch a DVD that isn't a favorite of his, etc. He did agree to go see a marriage counselor when I get back from CO but came right out and said he is counting on the counselor to point out that I am completely crazy and need to either get divorced or medicated into total submission. He is in for a real shock.

Wednesday, May 18, 2016


Why is the asshole's perfect time to start his fits so often near mealtimes? It is like he has a built in timer. Near a mealtime, start shit. The excuse this time is that I took $10 out of the grocery envelope yesterday to, duh, buy groceries he asked for when I went to Chino to the dr. Now he is hysterically angry because I took HIS grocery money to buy what HE asked for. I am afraid that I did point out that it is not completely HIS grocery money, as he does insist that MY social security check go into his account that the grocery money comes out of. That has only led to even more screaming fit. I am so tired of this shit.