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I haven't sent out my x-mas cards yet.
I've been meaning to but so much crap has happened over the last seven months of *hell* the cards were the last of my concerns.
Everythign was going fairly well until I got married.
To make *one ginourmous story short*, my MIL moved in with us a week before we got married; she was to come and house sit but ended up moving in instead and with her 2nd grader child in tow. At first it was okay and I was actually glad to have family in WA since my best friend in the state had just divorced me. (She said I made her feel stupid and couldn't be my friend anymore. Yes, this is Lice Girl.) Things quickly soured when the job she had 'lined up' for the move we did not know failed and she refused/couldn't get a job.
It only got even worse when she brought her husband with her as she used that as an excuse to not find a job. After all, circumstances have them far apart and they can't be together so he comes and visits twice a year and well.. she wanted to spend time with him. Fair enough if he was visiting two weeks or maybe three but the man lived with us for *three* months. He didn't have a job either.
So there we were, supporting five people on an income of two and often couldn't make ends meet. The stress from work (corporate realignments) and the stress at home was unbearable. I was crying myself to sleep every other day, having panic attacks in the shower and the communication barrier with my husband deteriorated to the point we were fighting about everything and anything.
We were happiest on the road! The commute was the best time but we *always* fought on the way home.
Because we didn't want to be home as it no longer was our home. He thought I hated him and resented his mom. I thought he resented me for not wanting her there.
The mold issues in our apartment didn't help; I ended up with an upper respiratory infection (ear infection, pink eye, sore throat, you name it!) and when that cleared up it had merely traveled to my lungs and I ended up in pnemonia.
I recovered from my pnemonia... in *jail*.
After one stupid, petty fight in which I'd gotten so infuriated at being ignored, I reached out to slap a strawberry out of my husband's mouth. I wasn't wearing my glasses and my depth preception is really screwed.. I ended up slapping the poor guy. We worked it out, we thought it was fine and an bour later we had the cops at our door because his grandmother had caught wind of the fight from somone (can we guess who?) and she wanted to make sure my husband was okay.
His little brother told the cops I slapped him and that he saw it. I couldn't deny it and tried to explain it had been an accident although I was pissed as all hell... But there was a witness and in lovely WA, that meant I had to go to jail.
And since it was Friday, I was there until Monday...
Lovely easter.
So there you have it folks; the year started out with a wonderful freakin' bang alright.
But let us look at the positive; after my four day stint in the hold up and tons of crying later, my husband finally understood that I didn't hate him; I was just sick of not having my home anymore. After all, things that I liked done a certain way were being done a different way.. I wasn't liked very much by his FIL and no matter what I did to please anyone it always wound up in ruins. It became obvious I wasn't liked much by his grandmother and although I tried, valiently to be patient and caring I just couldn't win anyone's hearts.
It didn't mean I hated him. Goodness, no. It just made me question how someone so decent, level headed, drama-free and sane came out of that gene pool. (Yes, folks, outside the financial stress there was a lot of more drama with the MIL in regards other issues).
He was resolved to back me up in making her go. She needs her own space, we need ours and well, we are not Mommy and Daddy so gtfo.
She wasn't happy.
I was thrilled.
I still like her as a friend -- yknow, the kind you get together with and bullshit and do superficial crap with. That's the way she likes it by the by and let us leave it at that.
We moved apartments; my being sick and a doctor stating mold wasn't helping gave the old apartments enough arm rasslin' they let us go.
I'm feeling a lot better; the enthusiasm for work is back. I'm focusing and making strides to catch up to where I fell from.
For once in a long time, life is good. And I like that.
I've been meaning to but so much crap has happened over the last seven months of *hell* the cards were the last of my concerns.
Everythign was going fairly well until I got married.
To make *one ginourmous story short*, my MIL moved in with us a week before we got married; she was to come and house sit but ended up moving in instead and with her 2nd grader child in tow. At first it was okay and I was actually glad to have family in WA since my best friend in the state had just divorced me. (She said I made her feel stupid and couldn't be my friend anymore. Yes, this is Lice Girl.) Things quickly soured when the job she had 'lined up' for the move we did not know failed and she refused/couldn't get a job.
It only got even worse when she brought her husband with her as she used that as an excuse to not find a job. After all, circumstances have them far apart and they can't be together so he comes and visits twice a year and well.. she wanted to spend time with him. Fair enough if he was visiting two weeks or maybe three but the man lived with us for *three* months. He didn't have a job either.
So there we were, supporting five people on an income of two and often couldn't make ends meet. The stress from work (corporate realignments) and the stress at home was unbearable. I was crying myself to sleep every other day, having panic attacks in the shower and the communication barrier with my husband deteriorated to the point we were fighting about everything and anything.
We were happiest on the road! The commute was the best time but we *always* fought on the way home.
Because we didn't want to be home as it no longer was our home. He thought I hated him and resented his mom. I thought he resented me for not wanting her there.
The mold issues in our apartment didn't help; I ended up with an upper respiratory infection (ear infection, pink eye, sore throat, you name it!) and when that cleared up it had merely traveled to my lungs and I ended up in pnemonia.
I recovered from my pnemonia... in *jail*.
After one stupid, petty fight in which I'd gotten so infuriated at being ignored, I reached out to slap a strawberry out of my husband's mouth. I wasn't wearing my glasses and my depth preception is really screwed.. I ended up slapping the poor guy. We worked it out, we thought it was fine and an bour later we had the cops at our door because his grandmother had caught wind of the fight from somone (can we guess who?) and she wanted to make sure my husband was okay.
His little brother told the cops I slapped him and that he saw it. I couldn't deny it and tried to explain it had been an accident although I was pissed as all hell... But there was a witness and in lovely WA, that meant I had to go to jail.
And since it was Friday, I was there until Monday...
Lovely easter.
So there you have it folks; the year started out with a wonderful freakin' bang alright.
But let us look at the positive; after my four day stint in the hold up and tons of crying later, my husband finally understood that I didn't hate him; I was just sick of not having my home anymore. After all, things that I liked done a certain way were being done a different way.. I wasn't liked very much by his FIL and no matter what I did to please anyone it always wound up in ruins. It became obvious I wasn't liked much by his grandmother and although I tried, valiently to be patient and caring I just couldn't win anyone's hearts.
It didn't mean I hated him. Goodness, no. It just made me question how someone so decent, level headed, drama-free and sane came out of that gene pool. (Yes, folks, outside the financial stress there was a lot of more drama with the MIL in regards other issues).
He was resolved to back me up in making her go. She needs her own space, we need ours and well, we are not Mommy and Daddy so gtfo.
She wasn't happy.
I was thrilled.
I still like her as a friend -- yknow, the kind you get together with and bullshit and do superficial crap with. That's the way she likes it by the by and let us leave it at that.
We moved apartments; my being sick and a doctor stating mold wasn't helping gave the old apartments enough arm rasslin' they let us go.
I'm feeling a lot better; the enthusiasm for work is back. I'm focusing and making strides to catch up to where I fell from.
For once in a long time, life is good. And I like that.
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