Life goes on…

I’m writing a lot today.  It seems like there are things I just need to get caught up on.

If you’ve read my blog for a long time, you may have noticed that I haven’t written as much recently about his behavior.

That’s because he hasn’t been showing much passive aggressive behavior recently.

Things are simply pretty much empty.  We don’t talk.  At least, I don’t talk.  He still tells me about his day.  But never mind about my day – that’s not important.

The other day, when I came home, he asked, how are you?  I said, tired.  And then he started telling me about something that happened with his work that day.  So obviously my being tired was completely irrelevant to him.  Not sure why he asked.

I have found that the easiest way to describe him is that he is like a little boy, only concerned about himself.  Anything else doesn’t really matter to him.  And if you do something he doesn’t like, he will find a way to get you back.

There is this thing he does.  I’ve written about this before, but it’s been awhile.  And this behavior happened twice in two days.

As you know, I have two daughters.  They’re both in college, but I’m still their mommie.  On Wednesday night, my younger daughter needed to talk for awhile.  So we talked.

I love my daughters dearly.  They are very precious to me.  When I give to them, though, as in listening to them and feeling what they are going through (empathy), it drains me somewhat.  That’s okay.  I’m glad to do that for them.  But then it leaves me wanting.  My emotional tank runs on empty pretty much all the time anyway (except for maybe an occasional crumb) so after I have given, I feel like I need to “recuperate.” I hope this is making sense!

Anyhow, it seems like every time I have given myself for my daughters, when I am done, then instantaneously my husband “demands” my attention with something completely irrelevant.

So Wednesday night, when my daughter and I were finished talking about “life and death,” as soon as I walked into our room, he wanted to tell me about this news story about men getting implants to make their beards fuller.  Really?  Really?

You know, good or bad (as in codependently or not), I really feel for what my daughters go through.  And they are dealing with much bigger things than beard implants.  It’s like a slap in the face when he does this.  Just when  I would like my own emotional tank fueled a little by some love and comfort, I get zapped some more.

And Thursday, my older daughter went to the dentist.  She has an abscessed tooth and some cavities that will need to get taken care of.  So she isn’t feeling well and this is going to cost her quite a chunk of money.  She and  I were discussing this over the phone and he heard my side of the conversation.

When my daughter and I were finished talking, my husband asked me if she was okay.  I didn’t tell him what was going on; he has no relationship with her.  I just told him, yes, she is okay.

Then he brings up that there were internet charges for her cell phone on the phone bill and that they were expensive.

So another slap in the face.  Here she is dealing with something and I’m being a mommie.   He has no part in it, but he has to be intrusive and assert himself somehow.

Life goes on.

Whatever…