Over it!

I am so over it.  Totally, utterly over it.

I simply want to close my eyes, go to sleep & not wake up for a very, very, very long time.  Sometimes life is too much.  Lately I’ve hit that point.  It’s too much.  It’s hard.  It’s exhausting.  It’s not fair.

Instead of sleeping I continue to stand up taller, smile bigger & tackle the next chore.  Yet, I’m tired.  So tired.

Why did I ever think I’d be okay living with an asshole for the rest of my life?  Why did I even begin to imagine this would ever get better?  He would ever be normal?  This will never happen.  It isn’t possible.  Yet, here I sit.  Out of tears to cry.  Out of fucks to give.

Where do I even begin with this disaster that’s been my life?

We closed on the house.  It should be exciting.  This should be great.  I was so excited to get this house.  I was so excited to accomplish my dreams, my goals.  He was too.  Finally, moving up.

Instead I’ve moved into a dark abyss of hatred, anger, disappointment & frustration.

We needed a fence built right away.  He got the pieces on a Friday.  He began on a Saturday.  Monday he had the posts in.  Then he quit.  He put up a few rails Tuesday.  Nothing again.  Come Thursday he had to go out of town with his mom for a wedding.  Fine.  I don’t comment.  It’s not a big deal.  I’ve packed & moved our entire house.   I’ve unpacked it all.  All without a word.  Because he was working on a fence.

He gets back Sunday.  Monday will be day 11 of he builds a fence.  He does nothing.  Nothing.  Tuesday.  Repeat.  Wednesday.  Repeat.  NOTHING.  I ask.  He doesn’t know how.  I offer help.  No, he’s waiting for a friend.  He’d taken this 2.5 weeks off to build a fence.  Yet, doesn’t do a thing.  Wednesday I come home at lunch.  NOTHING.  He’s out chilling with his mom.  Again.  WTF?  I text him that I was exhausted.  I didn’t get a break.  I didn’t get a vacation.  I’ve worked every second of this now day 13 and he’s done NOTHING since day 5.  For real.  NOTHING.  I had every right to be upset.  You’re drinking fucking coffee with you mom when I’m so sore I can barely move?

He returns to tell me that now I fucked up.  He was done with my fence.  I could fuck myself and build the fence myself.  He was going back to work 4 days early.  You sir are winner.

I didn’t say a word.  I went on YouTube.  I learned how to build a fucking fence & I began Thursday night.  On top of cooking dinner, cleaning house, doing laundry & working 8-5+ every day.  This was Day 14 of fence building.  FOURTEEN!  He goes to work.  He comes home.  He eats my food.  He goes to bed.  I continue to build a fence with my stepdad’s guidance.  A Disabled Vet who has also never built a fence.  But he can build motorcycles like a mad man.  So, we’ve got to be able to build a fence.

In the meantime he quits coming home.  He purposely takes loads out of town.  He goes above & beyond to make sure I know how fucked I am.  He texts me to let me know he hates me.  My fence isn’t good enough.   I continue on.  In the 90 degree heat.  Building a fence.  Sunday  night we put the last slat on.  640 slats. That’s almost 4,000 feet of fence if my math is right.  Seriously.  And it’s GORGEOUS.

I posted pictures of my fence updates on facebook.  I never said a word about him.  I simply called it “Heather learns to build a fence day 1”, etc.  That’s it.  I BUILT A FUCKING FENCE IN FOUR DAYS when he was on day 14.  Yet, I never said a word about him or to him.  It’s easier just to do it myself.  So, much, easier. Why fight.  Just do it yourself.  I did make one post.  On his day 13, while he drank coffee with his mom.  All it said was “Priorities?  This is getting ridiculous.”  That’s it.  Nothing else.  It could be about him, my kids, my mom, my dogs, my clients.  (My clients priorities also suck.)

Well, his lovely mom calls him today to tell him I’m bashing him on facebook.  I’m being so mean about him.  Blah, blah, blah.  He called me SCREAMING.  Horrid, mean, evil things.  Who cares that I built a fence.  That I’ve moved essentially alone.  No, all that matters is his mom is mad her friends are seeing my comments on him.  For real.  Because he’s so fucking perfect.

I don’t play these games.  Hell no.  I went directly to the source & asked her WHAT THE FUCK.  Yep, she told him.  Because I’m disrespectful to post that on facebook.  TO POST WHAT?  To post I’m building a fence alone.  Everyone can see it’s just me in the pictures.  And people want to know why he isn’t in them.  Because I built the fucking fence alone?  Seriously?  I did everything alone.  Oh, you did it all?  Yeah bitch, your son was too busy hanging out with YOU.  Well, she thought he did more.  NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO.  I went off.  And to call & tell on me even if you do think I’m posting bad shit?  WTF?  If you have a problem with me ASK me.  Don’t call & tell on me & tell him how disrespectful I am when I didn’t do anything wrong.  Then she says she’s sorry.

Bitch.  It’s too late for sorry’s.  I am done.  I’m done.  I don’t care about your obsessive image.  I don’t care about you.  Truthfully I simply hope you die.  FAREWELL.  I’m so over it.  What the FUCK did you think would happen if you called “God’s gift to the earth” & told him your friends/family were talking since I built a fence alone.

I’ve blocked her on facebook.  I’ve blocked her daughter I wasn’t even friends with.  I’ve blocked her sister.  I’ve deleted her sister in law.  I am not playing their games ever again.  My facebook was uplifting, positive, showing you a girl could do anything.  And their only focus was her precious son didn’t get to be in the pictures?  GO CHOKE ON YOUR FUCKING NEED FOR PUBLIC PERFECTION. Oh boy, was she unimpressed when I asked why in the fuck she thought it was a good idea to go buy weed & smoke it in Colorado for the wedding with her kids who ALL suffer from addiction issues.  SERIOUSLY?  Real great move.  He told you that? Yep, he did.  Want me to go post that on facebook too?

Then he comes home.  Screaming.  I should respect him.  (Thanks to your mom.  No wonder you’re all fucked up.)  In the end he said he’s filing for divorce. He’s moving out.  He isn’t giving me anymore money.  Then he changes it to he’s staying but from now on I have to give him the bills & he’ll give me enough money for each one & that’s it.  I don’t just get money to pay them now.  I have to check in with him.  Prove the bill. (Uhhhh, what the fuck.)

Then he has the balls to tell me I can’t make it on my own & don’t I ever forget that.

Ummmmm?

I just want to cry.  He’s kind of right.  This mortgage is more than I can pay by myself.  But guess what.  I’ll make it.  I’ll do whatever I have to do.  And I won’t ever give up.  I can do it.  I will do it.  That’s all there is to it.  I don’t have a choice.  Sadly, he’ll never leave.  It’s not likely.  He’ll just make my life hell.  Yay.  To think I thought it was getting better.  I thought this house would make it even better with more room.

Yet instead it was all a lie.  It was only getting better because he knew once he got me here I’d be trapped.  He played perfection until I was right where he wanted me.  No more cheap rent.  I’m now the proud owner of a nice big house with a nice big mortgage.  (Well, it’s not that bad.  But on my current pay it’s not really doable.)  Thanks sir.  Thanks for being the classic, abusive, controlling asshole & backing me into the corner.  I appreciate it greatly.

At least I got my gorgeous house?  And I have loads of text messages.  I should be more than able to get a Judge to give me some maintenance money (our version of alimony) to at least cover the mortgage for X years.  So, I just breathe.  I remind myself I know how to work the system well & I pray for the best.  (Then he texted me a divorce isn’t that expensive because I can keep everything, he only wants his clothes.  He’ll file.  It’ll be $200.  The end.  Like he seriously thinks I’m going to just let him fuck me over & say okay?  I simply replied with I had no idea why he thought it would be so easy as I would never lay down & take it, no matter how brainwashed he thought I was.  Then he texted me “See I can’t trust you”.  Ummmm, because I won’t go be broke & fucked & let you walk away with exactly what you want?  Who should be trusting who?)  Really, I think I’m suppose to be begging him.  I can’t beg.  I’m too tired to beg.

Next up I still have to clean the rental.  And no, staying there isn’t an option. It’s already rented on the 1st. So, after building a huge fence.  Cleaning the house.  Doing laundry.  Making dinner.  I loaded up my stuff & went to the rental.  I cleaned my room from top to bottom.  I shampooed the living room & scrubbed walls.  I still have two more bedrooms, two bathrooms, kitchen & laundry room.  To get done by the 1st 🙁  Ughhhhhhh.  How will I do it?  I have NO idea.  But I have no choice.  I need that deposit back as it’s all my moms (and she’s already said she’ll help if he leaves, so I can’t take anymore money than I have to & need to have this to give her).

I’m running on fumes.

But at least I’m running.  It can only get better I can pray.