Another Day, Another Dollar
Entry 1
Thursday creeps up on me every time. It always feels like I have enough time to get things done, whatever those things may be.
I don't hate working, but hate work. I dread it every day. I hate being interim, albeit I have no clear direction. It wouldn't matter if I did, I seem to have lost whatever meaning I found in working about the time the troubles began some three years ago now. We are in the thick of it, regarding history.
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| So far, not so good. |
Jenny would send me long texts, which may still exist on my phone, albeit its unlikely, back around 2017 and 2018, wanting to talk about our relationship.
I was so tired of the subject and the circularity of the conversations, I didn't even read the lengthy texts--we are tal king hundreds of words. Before the texts, she would a few times ask to talk about it as we were going to bed. I was always exhausted at that point and would tell her I needed to sleep. There was never another time to talk. But, and I am not kidding, this topic of conversation has been going on for years, arising every few months, almost like clockwork.
I went back and checked my texts. They go back to August 2020, around the time of diagnosis. So, no screeds. One hadn't happened at that point for at least a year, more likely at least two years. The texts were always the same, focused on what she perceived were my fuck ups and how I just didn't care. In the past, from the time we started dating until I stopped doing this ritual, Jenny would get mad over real or perceived fuck-ups on my part but not day a thing. It would become apparent she was angry. She would talk to me less. She would get that angry tone she would use on me--almost the only voice I can clearly remember today. She would not, however, raise whatever the particular issue was that set her on the path of a blow up. After three to four months, she would blow up at me. Always at home, usually with the kids near. She would scream at me. I would engage. I wasn't any better than her at first. But, when I saw how much it scared Leiney when she was about three ( she hid behind our giant couch in abject terror), I ceased engaging.
I would try and leave. Jenny would try and stop my retreat. She would try and grab my arm or block the front door or stand in front of my car, demanding I stay to continue the argument. I would leave and wait for a decent period for both of us to cool down. Then, I would come home and we would talk and iron out whatever the issue was. We would go to bed and she would be happy--we both would be-- and I would know that the cycle had reset. It almost felt like clockwork at times. I couldn't set my watch to it, but I could ballpark the two week period it would happen.
At times the issues were real, and I amended my behavior. I hadn't been pulling my weight around the house when we first had kids, but I fixed that,
and we were 50/50 on most household things before too long--and when she started grad school, I did everything without complaint--from the dishes to mowing the lawn--to getting the kids to acting. Early on, I had a job as an attorney that demanded time I couldn't avoid.As General Counsel my dance card was often full--there were frequent times that I was working 6-7 days a week. I would come home for time with the kids and dinner and then go back to work, and when I had a case--I could be at the office until 3 a.m.
She didn't work for a few years by choice, and then only part-time, so she could be with the kids. I supported this, absolutely. But once the issues around chores were resolved, it became I wasn't taking the kids to the doctor enough. Many times I would attend with Jenny, but it was true, because I worked full-time and she didn't, I wasn't able to do the things Jenny was doing with the kids. I did my level best. As they were growing up, all I wanted was to be with them. So, she would be angry about that. I rearranged my schedule as best I could, but I was never going to be primary. she would complain that I didn't make appointments for the kids to see the doctor, the dentist, etc. She had been doing it, without ever saying I needed to do so. Again, I was working full-time. In order to make the appointments I would need to know her calendar. Jenny always planned in advance, a trait I admire, and one skill at which I am quite deficient and always have been. So, to make appointments, I would need to know her schedule. She would get annoyed that I didn't know it. We started keeping a shared google calendar to keep each other updated. I would try and make appointments, but it was often a fruitless endeavor as neither of us was the best at keeping the calendar updated or I would misread the calendar--and the result is that I would schedule a time that didn't work, Jenny would be annoyed, and ask that I reschedule. This extra step--me calendaring the appointments, wasn't really saving any time for Jenny and kept me worrying I would fuck up. She got frustrated, and eventually resumed calendaring the appts--to which I, almost without exception, would attend if I wasn't at a hearing. Also, to make sure the record is complete, I did on occasion take the kids to the doctor--usually if it was an emergent issue or if it was for a vaccine--as Jenny was virulently anti-vaccination (with caveats) when the kids were little--while they did get all their vaccines, they were spaced out further than the typical vaccination schedule. (She was convinced there was a link between autism and getting too many vaccinations as a child; she also opposed the HPV vaccine for reasons I can't recall. She refused to get the kids flu vaccines, so I did that each year.)
The big issue, that never did go away was handling the bills. She did the bills each month and complained bitterly about it and demanded I share in the burden. I agreed to do so at the end of several fights and would endeavor to do so. Like Omi following my every step as I mowed her lawn to point out places I had missed, Jenny would insist on sitting with me as I did the bills and then would take over in frustration as she insisted I wasn't doing them correctly. Every time. And yet, after she would assume the duties again, the issue would arise again and again, even when she was sick. When I assumed the responsibility toward the end of Jenny's illness, I discovered that all but two or three bills were set on autopay. Moreover, the fact that she did the bills allowed her to get all of those credit cards of which I was unaware, and to go on excursions and to dinners with Eric, to buy tickets and make hotel reservations for Vegas and NYC (she paid for the trip but never went) without me being any the wiser.
So, the complaints of which I was aware that I am sure were in the screeds she would send would be about the bills, would be about our lack of interest in the same things, that we weren't spending enough time together and about our lack of intimacy. I would say these were valid issues, but she never actually tried to spend more time with me, nor did she ever make any attempt to sleep with me AT ALL. Whenever we did discuss it, which did happen more than once, I would acknowledge the problems with the lack of intimacy, and suggest it took two to tango. When she suggested therapy, we had seen three different therapists over the years. She quit two because she believed they were one-sided. The third worked miracles, but I was less than committed, still hurt over Jason and determined to get back at Jenny, I suppose.
When I thought things were getting better around 2018 (the texts stopped because she was fucking someone else), I attempted on more than one occasion to initiate sex. She pushed me away laughing in disdain, telling me that it would take time for her to get used to having that kind of contact with me again. In disbelief, on at least one occasion , I noted we had been together for decades, exactly what did she need to wait for to sleep with me? She didn't tell me.
Frankly, the brunt of my failure was being happy when Jenny's constant anger dissipated and Jenny was more indifferent to me than anything. It meant I could spend time with the girls, without being called upstairs and being told we needed to talk, or receiving any more long texts that I would never read. I had, in retrospect, reverted to my old strategy that I employed when the children were very young, to spend time with them rather than sit with her as she sulked or seethed in anger. My stress level dropped precipitously--and the kids and I lived in an environment free of the stressors that had been in our lives for so long.
There is a thread here that I have left out, that ran from the time we moved home from Renton until 2018 or so, which was the constant issue of me not making enough money, in the eyes of Jenny. There wasn't a time when we had a fight, that I can remember, when she didn't complain about our finances. It was the button to push to make me lose my shit, because I supported her choice not to work back in the day, and then to work half-time, and whatever career choice she made. She would demand I find a job that paid better money. I would tell her I liked my work, and that she was free to work more or to find a better paying job with her diploma from Columbia University. I quit practicing law and went to the other side so that I could make more money to please her--and then she refused to go to California. When she finally came, she refused to work.When I agreed to return, because I wanted to make her happy, she refused to consider a job offer for me that was a career maker. I had already lived without the girls for too long, I wasn't going to fight over this, so I took a lower paying job whose duties and span of control were far less than what I was doing in California. But, I did it to make sure I had my kids next to me and to keep her happy. She wasn't.
I'm not sure why this data dump today. But we are nearing milestone dates, maybe that is it. Maybe I just needed t think this through and put it down to understand it.
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