Mood:
downNow Playing: Yesterday, all my troubles seemed so far away.....
Topic: Sunday Blues
My Song
Something about Sunday makes me feel blue.
My better half is off playing golf and I have nothing to do but mull over the snapping and snarling we went through last night.
I think he is cheating on me. Oh my cheating heart, you make me feel so blue.
I cried and cried the whole night through.
And sleep never came. I tried not to accuse him because he has a charming little habit of turning the tables on me and telling me that it’s the medications talking and that I am OUT OF IT.
Well, it hurts but I feel and sense that my husband is seeing another woman.
Somehow writing it out, spelling it out makes it a total reality instead of what he calls my foaming fantasies. Meaning, foaming at the mouth i.e. out of it mentally.
Sure, I have and suffer from Fibro Fog. It’s a known conclusion that we all do. It’s not the medications either. Our brains are cloudy, compromised by whatever this is.
I get names and dates mixed up, things fly out of my brain as fast as they come in, but if I take my time and pump up my brain and refrain from getting nervous and trying to remember too hard, it comes back to me, eventually.
Do I feel like a fool?
Yes, most of the time. But I am so used to feeling that way that it doesn’t really get to me anymore.
Why do I think that my husband is cheating on me? Because he acts differently.
He is becoming somebody I do not know.
He kisses me differently and he never cuddles or gets romantic that’s why.
When a man kisses you in a different way after being married to him for years, a gal kind of gets the idea that he is taking lessons and that they are free and for the taking.
So now I have to take action. I also have to think about how I really feel about my husband cheating on me. I am not exactly the model wife.
I am a huge burden and I am not exactly a happy go lucky party girl who is ready to go on a moment’s notice to have a blast.
Nor am I Miss Romantic anymore. I hurt too much. Plain and simple.
I love my husband very much but I feel guilty about the life he leads with me.
I am his chain to the ball that drags him around when he should be living it up and in the prime of life inhaling life with gusto, enthusiasm and much happiness.
He should be able to go camping, do his sports, and not worry about me.
All my interests have faded simply because I am unable to participate. His have gotten stronger and that has caused a huge rift between us.
We used to make a solemn oath to one another that it didn’t matter; that what we had was so special, that it was worth it all. Now, I am not so sure. Even his friends are hinting he should drop me like a hot potato.
I am a liability in my husband’s career as well. I should be able to be a hostess, to involve myself in the wives executive charity projects, attend balls, dinners and charity functions, be there for him. His company frowns on the fact that I rarely make an appearance and when I do, I leave early wincing with pain.
I am holding him back from a promotion.
No, he does not say that and has never accused me of such a thing, but I confess I picked up the phone and listened to a conversation he had with his assistant, Betty Anderson, that pert little blond with the legs up to her chin who loves to water ski, golf, dance and party.
I heard him tell her that I was holding him back. To be fair he also told her he cared so much about me and suffered because I am suffering.
She made the usual cluck clucking sympathetic noises but I could tell from the timbre in her voice that she wants my man.
So I suspect her as my number one thief. The thief who wants to steal my husband away from me.
I am not powerless to stop it. I am trying really hard to look good, to make an extreme effort not to talk about illness all the time.
Men dislike talking about sickness and illness all the time. It makes them feel uncomfortable.
Women have a habit of grinding the facts in, and men would prefer to leave it all under the carpet. Women like to chew their cud, men like to culp and swallow.
I am learning to button my lip and talk about different things like current events, his projects at work.
He is appreciating it but I haven’t gotten his full attention just yet. I am working on it.
So that’s my story for this dismal rainy Sunday. I am sitting here making a game plan to keep my husband.
If that isn’t a sad tale, I don’t know what is. I know that people are starving in the world, they are dying, that there are disasters, murders, illnesses worse than mine, and so much more misery but to me, losing my husband would cave in my whole world so to me, this is a disaster of the highest magnitude. I will figure something out.
I just have to.
Until tomorrow, FG
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