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!

If Looks Could Really Kill then My Profession would be Starring

I'm starting to get over the heartbreak of giving up the kitty. Every now and then I've been attacking Roger though. I just keep thinking about his stupid car. Or maybe it's because I've been spending my days trying to shop the hole in my heart full again and in the process I've been buying his birthday presents. I'm finally falling into my weekly routine though and my workouts are going better. I think the endorphins from exercising are the only thing keeping me from falling into a full on depression most days. The scale read 140 on Monday. I almost cried. I've never been too conscious about my weight, but that number just fucking blows. So now I've been all critical of how much I'm eating, which is totally wrong. I should be more concerned with what I'm eating not how much. I got somewhat on the right track last night by making baked Italian chicken with stir fried veggies and rice. Roger absolutely loved it and I'm pretty sure I'll be making it at least once a week from now on. Tonight won't be so healthy. I'm reverting to my stock of Hamburger Helper as he'll be coming home late after work because of football practice.

I sat down to look at our finances yesterday thinking that may cheer me up, but of course it only stressed me out about our future because I can't just be happy that we could possibly have $70,000 in our savings when we finally move back to the states. I have to go and try to figure out if we'll be able to buy two brand new cars and a house, which we won't really be able to without living paycheck to paycheck and that is something I am happy to not be doing anymore. I should just sit here and be excited about our trip, excited to see my parents in 68 days, excited that we could potentially save $70,000 by June of 2009. $70,000. That is something I never would have imagined for myself before I turned 25. Not to mention having 3 fully paid off cars and being a world traveler by 23. I should be pretty excited about those things. Ha! And all without a college degree! But that still makes me a looser in some people's eyes. I guess I'm working on it. But it still really scares me about what happens next. If I estimated correctly I will have my Associates in Whatever by October next year. Then I'll take at least one more year off before starting on my Bachelors, hopefully in music..but I've been considering Music History or just History. I was always good at History. I was better at playing the flute though. Great, I'm back to stressing about the future again. I need to just be happy right now. Happy to go make the bed and start some laundry and do the dishes and tidy up the living room and get my ass dressed and do my hair. Then maybe I'll treat myself to jewelry shopping at the BX. Some fake pearls would be great and maybe some new earrings and hey, I've got a new CD to listen to. See things are looking up already.