I must apologize for my absence. Times are not good here. I discovered beer in a bin. Yep. I had suspected as much because of the hideous mood swings and criticisms all directed at me. I am not stupid.
I also basically do not talk at home anymore. I have found that he really just doesn’t care. At. All. He will walk outside to the garage in the middle of a sentence without so much as a warning. He tells me he can’t handle talking right now. Of course that’s after a twenty minute dissertation on a musical scale he just learned. Like I care. Apparently I had better care because this is HIS house, HIS things, HIS possessions. Message received loud and clear.
He also just yells at me for tiny things. Like his latest rant is that I now have two electronic devices to whittle my time away instead of doing everything around the house. I guess his clean clothes and food and dishes just magically appear. His constant bullying and belittling are further proof of drinking. Or smoking. Whatever.
He spends his days in the garage, in his man cave with furnace and a/c. He has two computers, a tv, and all his musical equipment out there. He only comes in to get food, go to the bathroom and yell or make belittling statements to me. Yet, since HE pays the bills ( his money but his mom actually handles his money), why should he not tell me how much I am beholden to him and how I do everything wrong, I am a total loser, I should be on my hands and knees thanking him and taking care of all HIS needs. Um, nope. Sorry. He is doing what he is supposed to do. My illness never enters into anything at all. I’m lazy. Period.
Tick tock…. Tick, tock…. Tick, tock…. Time is fast approaching.