I Don't Wanna Be You Anymore

Did I do this?

Or was this behavior a predisposition that would've reared its ugly head at some point anyway?

I'm talking about a breach of privacy.

I'm talking about the fact that I brought my work computer home the other day, then took my kids to a doctor's appointment for flu shots... and upon my return, I found my laptop bag rummaged, and my computer had both explorer and chrome open to sites I had visited that day. 

Sites I know I closed.

One of them was our credit card processing portal. 

I never EVER leave that open.

I have spent the past two days trying to convince myself that I must be losing it. I had to have left these sites open... it isn't possible that my husband would again invade my fucking work space, is it? 

It can't be.

Not after I told him it was a deal breaker for me.

Would he risk that to satisfy his voyeurism? I mean, I'm not physically naked, but emotionally I can be, in this space.

I have started another blog page. One that NOBODY knows about. One where I can express all my awful truths without fear of judgement. A place I can write uncensored. 

If he was digging around in my history tab, he may now know about that website.

Let me break down what that means:

I have no privacy.

I have no safe space to express myself.

My wishes mean absolutely nothing to the man that claims to love me.

An integral part of my personality is systematically being strangled to death. 

I am not trusted.

I fear that I have caused this. That I deserve it somehow. I know that when I was swung out and full on manic a couple of years ago, I was not behaving in a proper manner. I know I crossed a few lines and I hurt my spouse's feelings a great deal... I know these things. I've atoned for this. I'm properly medicated... under control.

Does that mean I no longer deserve to have private thoughts? 

I'm not a flight risk and he god damned well knows it! So... why does he insist on tromping all over my boundaries? Why can't I say to him: "please keep the fuck out of my personal thoughts. They are none of your business. If there is something you need to know about, I will tell you. Promise. I'm hardly the strong silent type"? 

None of this should be news to the man I've shared my life with for nineteen years.

Is that all we're going to get? Nineteen years? 

I need to impress upon this man that I am not having this. I refuse.

Back a couple of posts ago, I systematically talked myself out of being angry about the passive aggression I've been exposed to of late. I placed the blame on me and my 'down-swing'. I swallowed it. Told myself it was 'my bad'... 

Here's the thing, he left all those pages open to send me a message. "I see all"...  Same reason he behaves like one of the kids when it comes to the division of household responsibility. It's like he wants me to be the one to blow a hole out the side of our world. 

Why can't he open his face-mouth, be a big boy, with a big voice, and tell me the things that are bothering him. Tell me he still feels insecure. Tell me he needs reassurance... though I honestly don't know how much more reassurance I could provide. I couldn't possibly express any more love, care and concern than I do. I don't know anyone that could.

Let's hear a little story... say you worked your work day, with the intention of swinging by your Bestie's place for a long overdue visit, but upon further reflection, decide to go home instead. No biggie. Bestie will forgive you. 

But what were your reasons for not going?

Was it simply because you changed your mind, or you felt gross or too tired?

How about if it was because you just didn't want to talk about this bullshit habit of your hubs'? Because you know that your Bestie (who has your back without fail) is highly vocal about this nonsense... and, by discussing it, you are giving it legs and permission to run amok in your mind.

Then, add in the fact that the laundry is climbing up the wall at home, the house is messy and it's Thursday... don't want to have the love of my life return home from work to a messy house. It would be tragic for him to have to search out a clear spot to dump his luggage, outdoor clothing and dirty dishes... so instead, I left a freshly tidied, vacuumed and cleaned house when I went off to bed... for him to come into and dump his luggage, outdoor clothing and dirty dishes!

I know that it was me that was bothered by the messiness. I know that had I not done the laundry, he wouldn't have cared... mostly because it would simply mean I would do it tonight, or tomorrow. I know that when the man comes home from work at midnight, he doesn't really want to think about unpacking his suitcase and hanging up his coat... I get it... but that suitcase will sit in my front entry until he needs it again if I don't move it... and the sweater will be something I will have to hang up, or it will stay slung over my bar stool until he goes searching through the house looking for it the next time.

All of these things I've perched on are minuscule, petty and stupid, but it is all part of a larger problem. It's all about me being under control.

I wonder how he is going to feel when I've swallowed my last bite of this and inform him he needs to stay away all week ...and then on the weekends, I will move out and stay with somebody else... that we need a 'break'? Do you think that would hammer this point home?

These are the horrifying thoughts that are blooming inside of me now. Thoughts that should be inconceivable are sprouting prolific foliage and infinite roots.

Why can't I just be happy, goddammit?!! Why can't these financial difficulties be finally coming to a close and my relationship still be sane? Why is he sabotaging our happiness? Am I causing this? Do I deserve to have my marriage crumble to the ground?

...after everything we have weathered? Really? This is what is going to take us out?

It's maddening on a level I can't even metabolize. 

I need a vacation from myself... my family... my stupid thoughts.

I don't want to "tell the mirror what you know she's heard before: I don't wanna be you, anymore".