When Worlds Collide

I don't know what happened today, but I've been overcome with anxiety about buying the Jeep. I drove myself over to the Exchange Car Sales office to try to convince myself things would be okay, but it didn't help. I promised Rob that I would be back around three to give him the final deposit and some of the paperwork. I spent some time flipping through the brochure just now and I don't feel any better. All I can think about is how we might regret buying this truck and I keep wondering is this really the right vehicle for me? The thing is I don't have time to have these sort of doubts and I can't ease my tensions by going and having a test drive because the idiots don't even have any Grand Cherokees over here. All these options keep popping into my head, like wouldn't it be better to save the money and buy something used when we go back? Or – if we get stationed at Fairchild my dad and Matt can build me whatever car I want for a ton cheaper than new, like maybe a TL. Then I start freaking out about all the crazy unknowns and the what if's. What if we don't get stationed at Fairchild? What if I can't get a job? What if something happens between now and next year that we can't put as much money down on it as we planned?

Rob told me that I should go check out the Commander that is on Mildenhall because the interior is very similar to the Grand Cherokee. I hope being able to play with the buttons and sit behind the wheel will make me feel better because I don't like this tension in my chest and all these stupid things clouding my head. The stuff I would think about to calm me down just a few months ago is seriously scaring the crap out of me now…getting a degree, and a new Jeep, and a new house, and going back to the states, and…argh!

Bloodied Up

A lot has happened since the last time I wrote. I was overtaken with the trip and my parents' visit. The aftermath was a lot to sort through. It's been more pain than pleasure having to update the blog where everyone knows me, sort through, edit, and distribute photos of the trip, as well as deal with the pressing issues I shoved to the back of my mind while on vacation. I can tell you that the trip was a life saver and I am happy to be out of the horrible, dark hole of depression that I had fallen into. The Explorer is fixed and running well and we are still pursuing the asshole that sold it to us. I'm hoping to get the court documents filled out and sent in by the end of this week. Roger was put on night shift as soon as we returned from our adventure around Europe so I was not very proactive about taking care of our responsibilities. Sadly, I gave up on the insurance claim on the Honda. Big insurance wins again. Fuckers. But, we aren't going to walk away from all this hardship without having learned a lesson. All our cars are fully covered now so I will never again have to deal with it myself.

The house has fallen into ill repair. Neither Roger or myself wish to clean anything. The carpet has been crying out to be vacuumed for the last month and a half, there is a thin layer of dust covering almost all of our furniture, and the toilets…well I don't want to even talk about that. We both know things need to be scrubbed within an inch of their lives and we even admit to it out loud, but we've yet to lift a finger. Actually, I can't say that. I will take some credit for myself. On Friday I pulled out the chemicals and scrubbed down the kitchen and the downstairs bathroom. I took a duster to the living room furniture and straightened things up. But today it looks like I didn't do a thing. On one hand I feel really lazy, but then I've been going to the gym regularly for a month now, I'm two weeks ahead with my school work and I went through a 1 gallon bag of coupons today.

Roger started ALS last Thursday. It's not as bad as Amy and Rachel were making it sound. I think it helps that I have homework to do too, so I work on my stuff while he works on his and then we snuggle for a bit in bed. I wrote up some stuff the other day about how lost I feel with school and how scared I am about my future. Maybe I will post it later on. I really feel like I'm just torn. I've never really felt like I know what to do with my life and I can't decide what's going to make me happy because so many things I want conflict with each other. I poured everything out to Roger the other night over some wine and I was surprised at his response. He actually agreed that we've been living his life and pushing toward his dreams and his career since we've been married. He was very worried about how I felt and vowed that as soon as we had the opportunity he would do whatever he could so that I could get closer to the things I want.

I guess he's done studying now so I'm off.

Doubt Full

So I took a break for a little while, mostly because I'm tired of writing, talking and thinking about the truck situation. It's been in the shop for a month now and I'm not really sure we're any closer to having it running than the last time I wrote. It took them two weeks to finally get a diagnostic on it and now at the end of the third week they are finally putting on one of the parts the diagnostic said was malfunctioning. The other part is being Fed-Exed by my dad and should be here tomorrow or Saturday. The shop said we may not even need it. Fingers crossed for that outcome, but even if we do have to put the other part on the truck should be back to us by next weekend, which means we should be able to pick up my parents with it. The asshole we bought it from still hasn't called us, but we're waiting to stir things up again until the truck is fully fixed and we have the full cost of everything. My grandfather is sending a check for school this week; sadly that money will probably go toward the stupid fucking truck. I would have given anything to be in Idaho with all these problems, or just back in the states. At least then we could have gotten a real fucking vehicle and not just something to hold us over. It's when we have to settle for things that we always end up getting screwed. I think I've worked it out so we won't have to dip into our savings account just yet. With any luck we'll get the full amount allowed refunded for my tuition in our taxes. I just really hope the money situation works itself out before June. Our Christmas trip hasn't even started and I'm already stressing about the price of tickets to fly home for Roger's brother's high school graduation. I'm going to be so pissed if we spend $2500 to go back home and his family treats us like shit again.

Roger is making me feel like shit all the time these days. If he's not being nasty to me because I'm not interested in sex then he's making rude jokes that hurt my feelings and make me feel like I'm stupid or useless or just plain unloved and that doesn't make me want to have sex with him any more than before. I feel ugly and he just expects me to fuck him so he's happy. He can't put any effort in to make me feel beautiful or loved. He only tries when he wants to get me in bed and that is only ten seconds before I'm expected to spread my legs. When he's been insulting me all day long it doesn't exactly work. I don't know what the fuck his problem is. I'm too tired to fight with him about it anymore and at this point I just really wish he'd get his act together because my parents are going to be here in a week and a half and I don't want to be bickering through our entire EuroTrip.

You Don’t Know How it Feels…To Be Me

I've been all twisted up inside for the last few days. It may have to do with my period making me overly emotional, but I can't shake the tension in my chest. Roger has been courageously dealing with the truck situation, but I'm still having dreams about it and thinking about it all the time. I'm so terrified that all the hard work I've done to get our savings to what it is will be destroyed by this guy. Then there's those other things gnawing at my brain to worry me. Today is the day of our house inspection. Last week we got a letter from Balmforth saying they wanted to inspect the house. I think it's pretty awkward considering we've been here for a year and a half. We spent most of our weekend scrubbing and painting and mowing. I hadn't really cleaned the house since the accident so it was due for it anyway. Everyone always tells us we have nothing to worry about because even when we think our house is a mess it is still very presentable. But this is our letting agency and they are greedy, untrustworthy, generally scummy people. They wouldn't be here if they weren't looking for something.

Then there's the school thing, which I've decided to totally give up on. I spent all that time fighting with my teacher, fighting with the system and it's just not worth my effort any more. I'm going to take an F, take a two month break and start over in January. It'll be a new year and hopefully I'll have some better luck. I'm really hoping that the trip goes well. That is the only other thing on my mind. It's time to run the last numbers for hotel costs so my parents can wire us the rest of the money and it's almost time to start making reservations; dinner at the Moulin Rouge, dinner at the Eiffel Tower, massages in Germany, wine tasting in Rome, guided tours. The list goes on I'm sure.

Things with Roger and I have evened out I suppose. It's been a while since we've had sex. I don't remember if we have at all since that Halloween party. He told me that he would take a break from drinking, but of course when the weekend came he was asking if he could drink some screwdrivers. Not being able to hold back, I snapped a nasty comment about how he could go have a few with Tiffany if he liked and I think he got the point. It maybe wasn't the best way to start the evening, but I really think he should have known better. We went to a BBQ at the Ross' on Saturday and he only had a single beer. I doubt this will go on for long, but I'll be happy if he can at least keep it like this through the holidays.

Gheez, the holidays. They hadn't even crossed my mind until just now. Roger mentioned the Flight Christmas party yesterday, but it barely registered. I wonder if I can even fit into that dress I bought earlier this year? Roger always gets upset about Thanksgiving and Christmas because I feel like I need to cook a lot. I make pies and cakes and cookies and the whole Turkey dinner spread and then we get stood up by the Kegley's and all our left-overs go to waste because Roger won't take a lunch to work. This year I don't have to worry about Christmas. We'll be on a ferry boat in the Adriatic Sea on Christmas Eve and Christmas morning. I do need to come up with a menu for my parents while they are here. It's for sure that we'll be cooking steak and crab, but my dad is sensitive to pasta so my great manicotti and lasagna are probably out of the question. Roger is in love with my meatloaf now so maybe that will be on the list and the Shake n Bake chicken we've become fond of. Maybe someone will actually invite us to their place this year. Or maybe we'll just do steak and crab for two on Thanksgiving. Or maybe it will be just like any other day. 2007 hasn't really treated us well anyway.

Nauseated

A little while ago we got back from this year's Halloween party. I cried the entire way home. Roger never noticed because he was passed out in the passenger's seat due to the fact that he'd been slamming beer after beer since six o'clock. Now I'm downstairs on the couch with a blanket and my feather pillow feeling like my heart has been torn out. Roger has no idea because he is passed out on our bed. At the very least I avoided a fight, and tonight it would have been a world ending fight which would probably left me bruised again. I chose not to drink at the party because I knew there was a keg, and I knew that meant that no matter how much he promised, he would drink at least half its contents. So I sat back and did the whole Passive Jessica thing that I have to do when times like these come up. Things were okay at first. Then Crystal and Haylee showed up and I had someone to talk to, and for once they were caring and supportive and interested. As the night went on and Roger became more and more inebriated I began dreading what would happen once I got him home. Haylee noticed the zoned out look on my face and all she had to do was ask what was wrong for me to dump the whole thing on the table. Out of earshot of anyone else I told her how he'd bruised me and how he picks fights, and when she suggested that I just get out of the house or lock myself in the bathroom I told her the stories about broken doors and how he has held me down and choked me to keep me from leaving. All the while I'm noticing how he's getting to close to the single females at the party. It was just a little dancing at first, close enough to make me nervous but far enough away to keep me from making a scene. Then I notice some girl leading him inside by the hand. I find out later from Crystal that more dancing went on and Haylee made a smooth save by pulling Roger backwards just as Devil Skank was about to put her arms around his neck. Around eleven thirty I was on my way to the restroom, I pass the stairway & hear giggles. I look up and what do I see but my husband kissing Devil Skank on the stairs. But I don't scream and I don't pull her down by her curls and curb stop her in the front of the house like I should have. At that moment I felt the last little piece of whatever I've been holding onto this month slip away. I went numb. I didn't even tell him we had to leave that instant. I waited around patiently for another half hour before asking him very nicely to wrap it up.

What did I do to deserve all this? All this crap in one single month? And the final blow is witnessing my husband kiss some blonde bitch?

Now I don't feel anything. I feel alone. I feel like all my nightmares have finally come true.

Asleep with a Knife

What a way to start off my morning. As if last week weren't bad enough. I lost the Honda, then the FTO died (but is now fixed at the cost of $700), we found a BMW but it was already sold, we figured that we could afford the Neon, and the day we freaking call it's sold too, Matt spilled a whole glass of red wine on our carpet & down the wall last night. Can't this week just be good? I'm already trapped in the house having to force myself to deal with my school bullshit. But I had to have this dream. I was driving a black Mustang, the same style as the one my parents were supposed to give me. I had Lorelei, of all people, in the car with me & we were going down highway 95. I was trying to get over into the left lane because the one we were in was becoming a turn lane and these two semi trucks were being assholes to me. One wouldn't let me over and the other was totally on my ass. Finally I thought I could get over but the semi in that lane sped up and I ended up merging into his wheel. We got away fine and came back to the scene in my old black truck. Apparently this whole thing caused a multi-car pileup and for some reason or another Matt was there in uniform with about five other guys as if he were investigating it. Lorelei was going to go tattle on me so I called him over before she could get to him. He hopped into my truck and flung down the bag from Prison Break with that five million dollars in it. Then he told me not to worry even though it wasn't five million anymore it was still a lot and we were going to be just fine. Then some lady came up to the truck and started harassing me because I'd caused the accident which attracted the attention of some investigator who noticed my truck had a big wheel shaped dent in it and proceeded to blame the whole incident on me. I was following her around defending myself all the while random people were walking up to me and bitching about the money I owed them for destroying their vehicles. The last thing I remember was standing in a mall wishing I was back in England! Ha! But it's not even funny. It's stressful and it wasn't the thing I wanted in my head right when I woke up. To be honest I'm not even sure what I was going to do today. It's all work. The dishes from last night's dinner, make the bed, all the laundry, probably fill out paperwork for the insurance company and paperwork for my class and the financial aid they should have sent me in fucking September.

God help me find some peace in all this.

Can I Sell this Sunrise for another Sunset?

I get into a head on collision and it's up to Roger to take care of everything now. It's his responsibility to worry about what everything costs, getting the insurance information, making sure we have copies of statements and police reports, and me. Most of all me. And you know what? I'm a total wreck, almost as much of a wreck as my poor Honda only I don't think anyone is going to send me to be crushed. Roger has been totally unreliable. And I get that he's just as stressed as I am. His car decided to die the very next day, but it's just the alternator. It's fixable and we will probably have it back this afternoon. My car is GONE, completely totaled all because some jerk mechanic decided to take a customer's Corvette for a joyride. Physically I'm fine. My shoulder is in quite a bit of pain and my whole right arm is extremely weak, but Roger has been too drunk to really take care of me. I know my injuries are nothing compared to when he broke his jaw, but I'm completely broken emotionally speaking and he's no help. I was there and I was strong for him and I spoiled him and said nothing to upset him. All he can do is drink and it's irresponsible and completely unhelpful.

Last night he got into the history on my AOL and found a bunch of porn sites. I don't have very good internet security because I never renewed my subscriptions, so I get pop ups a lot. But I don't think about it. It's just porn and I'm a grown up and just exit out of the screen. I put a pop up blocker on my Internet Explorer and they've pretty much gone away, but for some reason they're showing up on the AOL browser. So last night while he's drunk and I'm feeling like slitting my wrists in the bathtub he finds these sites and his mind immediately jumps to "my wife is a lesbian." I called him upstairs to join me in the bubble bath because I was seriously considering trying to drown myself and he finally joins me only to act like a total jerk, questioning why I'm taking a bath to relax if I'm already tired and I could just go to bed. Then he has me get out after only five minutes, brushes his teeth and starts grilling me about the porn on my computer and asking me if I'm a lesbian and if I'd rather masturbate to women on the internet than have sex with him. All of which is just fucking stupid and I can hardly handle it in my current emotional state. And, okay, if I'd found gay porn on his computer when he was lying in bed high on liquid codeine with a broken jaw, I'd be pretty curious about what the fuck was going on, but I don't think I would be such a bitch about it. He actually admitted that he was going to fuck me and then bring up the porn. Who the fuck does that? This is seriously the man I'm married to? But then I have to remember that he's been drinking since 1 pm and then the question comes up again…is this seriously the man I married. I've been nothing but there for him through so many things. A broken jaw, a sprained ankle, the admission of something horrible he did when he was 11 and I've been supportive and have never brought the shit up and this is how he is here for me? This is such bull shit!

My mom wrote him an e-mail last night demanding that he go get my kitty back. I've even asked too. I don't want another car now. I don't even think I could drive for a few more months at least. But I know for a freaking fact that if I had that cat back, if he were here to sleep on my lap or snuggle with me on the couch that I would feel better. I totally wouldn't be examining sharp objects and wondering if Roger would really care if I drug one across my wrist. I wouldn't be eyeing the last five Valiums and debating if I should take them all at once. When Roger broke his jaw it took me a long time to let go of that feeling that he wouldn't be okay if I let him out of my sight. It only lasted one day for him. I got one single day of shoulder massages and hand holding and snuggling on the couch before everything went right back to "hey, Jessica you're not giving me enough sex." No fucking shit dickhead! I was just in a pretty major accident, I'm stressed beyond all belief, somewhat contemplating a suicide attempt because of your lack of support and you think that "getting a nut off" (as he put it) is going to be appealing to me? Fuck you!