My wife resembles her mother more and more with each passing day. True, she has a far more rational head on her shoulders, but her decisions against type nonetheless frighten me. Inebriation is the rule of the day for her everyday, be it alcohol or weed. The weed I can handle, but she does it every fucking day. I can't recall Shannon's last truly sober day. She continues to have designs at socializing with people who she works with, which doesn't bother me, but she remains uninterested in involving me. I have been blacklisted as a square by my own wife, denied opportunities for my deficiencies as a responsible adult.
Consider: My wife drank an entire bottle of sake in less than two hours last night. She puked it all back up, naturally, and blamed the pizza she ate. A disturbing claim and one that alarms me enough that I have taken to counting the bottles of booze we have in the house and checking them daily. If the numbers change drastically, I may have to slap the bitch. I don't want to slap the bitch...
I understand these changes in her. It isn't alien to my own experience. It's stagnation that has spooked her and she's reacting like a child cut loose in the candy store. It's reasonable. It's life. I guess what my chore has become is being damage control; not taking her bullshit. It's something I can do, but I'm curious of how she will take it. Will I become even more of a pest? Time will tell.
Our last big fight, Friday night, was bad in volume and words, but good, once again, in truth. A lot came out; things were brought up from the past. What struck my interest was my wife's claim that she feels more schizo lately than she has in our entire relationship. Well, duh... She's a married woman who wants to fuck indiscriminately. She's taking mind altering drugs daily. She gets toasted when an opportunity presents itself. These things speak little of stability. They speak little of strength of character. They speak of cowardice. Can I tell her these things? Of course not. I'm just as yellow. Maybe, if things truly get worse, I will have to.
Consider: My wife drank an entire bottle of sake in less than two hours last night. She puked it all back up, naturally, and blamed the pizza she ate. A disturbing claim and one that alarms me enough that I have taken to counting the bottles of booze we have in the house and checking them daily. If the numbers change drastically, I may have to slap the bitch. I don't want to slap the bitch...
I understand these changes in her. It isn't alien to my own experience. It's stagnation that has spooked her and she's reacting like a child cut loose in the candy store. It's reasonable. It's life. I guess what my chore has become is being damage control; not taking her bullshit. It's something I can do, but I'm curious of how she will take it. Will I become even more of a pest? Time will tell.
Our last big fight, Friday night, was bad in volume and words, but good, once again, in truth. A lot came out; things were brought up from the past. What struck my interest was my wife's claim that she feels more schizo lately than she has in our entire relationship. Well, duh... She's a married woman who wants to fuck indiscriminately. She's taking mind altering drugs daily. She gets toasted when an opportunity presents itself. These things speak little of stability. They speak little of strength of character. They speak of cowardice. Can I tell her these things? Of course not. I'm just as yellow. Maybe, if things truly get worse, I will have to.
kleio:
Actually masturbation is one of the things that depresses me. I prefer to just try and think positively as much as I can.
reneemarie:
Well your wife has good taste!! I met a guy in Seattle that was from Albuquerque, he hated it here too 