We have a rock garden that has a few plantings in it, but was getting taken over by grass. This weekend I told my husband I wanted to move the rocks and

4 years

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We have a rock garden that has a few plantings in it, but was getting taken over by grass. This weekend I told my husband I wanted to move the rocks and get the grass out, then replace them. Make it look nice again. He shot my idea down immediately. He said we had too many other projects to do and this would be messy and a lot of work. Except we weren’t DOING anything else at the time, and it was ME wanting to do the work and clean up the mess. And we went in the house and sat on his a** after saying that, too. I was upset and a little confused. I mean, WHY? Why wouldn’t he want me to do the gardening? So I said what if I just do a little? “Fine- but don’t get into it, I don’t want you tearing everything up.” Well, I went to work and he went and did something else. So here I am trying to do this work, without moving the rocks too much or making a mess. And here he comes back. “Those rocks are too heavy for you.” “No they’re not” “Look, I don’t wanna DO this project right now, okay?!?!” “I didn’t ask you to!!! I’m doing it, I never asked you to help!” “Well what kind of MAN would I be if I just let my wife move all these rocks!?!?” ….. Oh, OKAY. Mother f***. I get it now. Mind+BLOWN. THAT is why you made me feel like my idea was stupid and not worth doing. Because YOU didn’t want to help me with it and YOU didn’t want to feel like an a** for NOT helping me. Great f****** solution. Make me feel like any project idea YOU think you should help with is a bad idea. Don’t ever let me do ANYTHING difficult on my own. AND – you get to continue to sit on your a** and do nothing. Meanwhile, I can’t do the things I want to do, I feel like all my ideas are bad, I lose all my confidence, and the garden continues to look like s***……. F*** THAT. Now that I understand WHY he shoots down certain ideas that I have for THIS reason, I’m really angry and hurt. How long has he been doing this to me? How many things has he NOT let me do because of his laziness? He’s done some fucked up s***, but THIS? This really really hurts. He crushed my confidence because it was easier for him to do that than to just tell me the truth. Or, god forbid, actually help me.

New Confession

I wrote a few days ago about never being comforted by the people who I love and who claim to love me. like most confessions I make here, I often start to reevaluate after I hit submit and will eventually begin to feel more level headed about whatever dramatic confession of emotion I decided to spew. this is not one of those times. I had a procedure today- invasive and painful. i knew it wasn’t going to be comfortable, but then afterwards I got bad news from the results. yeah, as I suspected for a long time, I’ve got cancer in me. pre-cancer, anyway. but the doctor let me know today that considering how young I am and other aspects of my history, I shouldn’t have these huge pre-cancerous growths in me. and I mean huge. how often do you have a doctor look at you and go “wow, that was the largest polyp I’ve ever seen in a 24 year old.” anyway… after this, my boyfriend of 6 years drove me to our house, almost completely all in silence. go inside, no real words spoken. nothing to say about it. any of it. just flops onto the couch and tells me he has a headache. makes me make him food and tuck him into our bed because he ALWAYS flops onto the couch when we get home, and then proceeds to complain about how uncomfortable it is to sleep on it and how sore he is. he at least tells me he loves me, I suppose, but nothing else. I say “I love you more”, like I frequently do, which is supposed to prompt a “No you don’t”, and a short reason as to why HE loves ME more. this time, he just says nothing nothing. nothing nothing nothing. now I get to go upstairs, cook myself a meal after being asked not to eat for 3 days, and then sit alone in my living room with only my thoughts. these f****** thoughts. why do I never get to be the baby. why do I never get to be the one tucked. why do I never get to be the one who gets their back scratched and their hair played with until they sleep. why do I never get asked if I’m okay. it’s like I was open with a disease that makes it so that whenever I’m upset, or hurting, or crying, I give off a noxious gas that makes everybody sick. I hate it here.

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