Empty boxes

I'm packing today.
Rather, I'm purging and packing today.
After 2 rushed, unplanned moves in a row and a lifetime of indecision, we have boxes and boxes of crap to deal with.

I have been putting off dealing with this crap for years and years. Now it's time to deal with this before I get the hell out, and so I am purging and packing.

Here's where it gets challenging. As I purge, I create an empty box.
When I pack, I fill the empty box.
As I move things out, I'll remove a box.

I don't want D to know I'm purging, packing, or removing my stuff from the house, so I have wayyyy more empty boxes than I will ever need.

Today, as I work, I've been moving the last of the boxes to be gone through from the garage into my bedroom. Empties are going back on the shelf in the garage. To the inattentive eye, it looks like nothing has changed. Reverse gaslighting for you, D. You're welcome.

To my eye, it's hard to see progress, because all I see are boxes. I'm hoping once the garage contains only D's stuff and empties, I'll feel like I've made headway in the project and can stop and breathe.

A nice surprise was in one of the boxes. I found a bumper sticker that says "Don't postpone joy."

When I feel overwhelmed by this project or think I want to take a break, remembering this little statement will help me stay on track. 

Don't postpone joy.

Poking the Beast

I spent the day deep cleaning the kitchen.

The whole day.

Our house is old and the kitchen hasn't been renovated since the 1960's (or earlier) which makes it really hard to keep clean. My own depression makes it hard for me to find motivation to do any deep cleaning. This was a huge project that was long overdue.

I got on my hands and knees and scrubbed the baseboards and corners with a scrub brush. I pulled out the fridge and stove and cleaned under and behind them. I cleaned out under the sink. Random drips and splatters were scrubbed up with an SOS pad. The butcher block island got relocated for better access to the fridge, windows washed, pantry cleaned out and reorganized...

We don't have a dishwasher, so in between washing the floor and scrubbing other things, I washed a few sinks full of dishes - although they're not done. The dishes are never completely done. (Grumble...)

During the cleaning project, D was in and out of the kitchen, making himself lunch while I worked (just for himself, not anyone else), and refilling his water bottle. He didn't offer to help, and I didn't ask. 

Just a side comment here. In the "good old days," whenever he'd see me being domestic - cleaning and cooking and otherwise doing nurturing homemaker-y things - he'd come up behind me and give me a kiss or hug. I loved knowing that he appreciated me taking care of him and our home. This eventually gave way to him squeezing my ass as he walked past, which I still interpreted as appreciation. Now he barely looks at me and when he acknowledges my existence in these situations it feels like he is sending me the message of "It's about time you get off your fat ass and do something productive around here." Productive, hah. Never mind that my world came to a screeching halt after the accident for 3 straight years while I nursed him back to health. And worked a full time job. And maintained the household by myself. And paid all the bills.

While cleaning the pantry, I found a packet of Tandoori seasoning that I bought a year ago and decided to make Tandoori chicken for dinner. At 6pm I stopped cleaning and started working on dinner. Things were going well, the house smelled good, and when the rice was nearly done, D meandered into the kitchen.

He stood to the side and watched me as I cooked.
"What?" I asked.
"Nothing. Just watching," he answered.

The sauce was fine, but needed something. More salt? Acid? Sweet? I grabbed a spoon, swirled it through the sauce, and held it out for him to taste.
"What do you think? Does it need anything?"

He looked down his nose at the spoon as he backed away. "I don't want to ruin my dinner."

I threw the spoon at the stove (it landed in the burner - oh yay, more cleaning for me), "What the fuck are you talking about?!"

He was silent. He poked the beast with a sharp stick on purpose.

"What the hell do you think I'm cooking? How is one taste going to ruin your dinner? Are you planning on doing your own thing and don't want THIS dinner to ruin your own personal dinner plans?"

He had pissed off the wife and raised her blood pressure. Mission accomplished.
He started to walk out, so I used my training* and stopped him in his tracks.

Like flipping a switch, I calmed down and sweetly said, "Oh honey, are you getting Alzheimer's?" 

He froze, smiled, then laughed. "Alzheimer's? Where do you get that from?"

"Well I've noticed that you have been saying things lately that just make no sense. Think about what you just said about not wanting to taste dinner because you don't want to ruin your dinner. I think there's something wrong. I'll call the doctor first thing tomorrow morning and we'll get that checked out right away."

His face fell.
I'm learning.

"No no no, I'm ok," he assured me.
"Then what did you mean about not wanting to ruin your dinner?" I asked.
"Nothing." He grabbed a clean spoon and dipped it in the sauce, then tasted. "It's fine."
(I wished he had grabbed the searing hot spoon instead.)

-----------------------------------------------------

*My training is where I'm learning how to do to him what he does to me. After years of gaslighting and covertly manipulating my emotions and ability to make decisions, I'm starting to turn it around and do the same thing back to him.

No, it doesn't feel good, but it neutralizes the feeling of him sticking a knife through my heart. It also helps to wipe away any feeling of "I wish he was nice to me," or "Maybe we can still work things out." I'm done having my heart broken and smashed to pieces. Turning his shit around on him is like emotional duct tape for me.

Sadly, this kind of thing hardens my heart so I won't be tempted to wimp out when it comes to moving away and divorcing him.

Narcissistic Traits: Sense of entitlement and expectation of special treatment

One of the traits of a Narcissistic person is a sense of entitlement and expectation of special treatment.

Back in my post about Narcissistic Personality Traits, I pointed out that one characteristic is expecting special treatment, and D most certainly has it. In fact, this is something the kids and I see (and hate) almost daily.

☑  Has a sense of entitlement and expectation of special treatment and that others will automatically go along with what he or she wants. Has obsessive self-interest.

Here's an example of something that has happened so often I practically expect it.

I have a cup of tea every night just before bedtime. Everyone in the house knows this.

Tonight, as often happens, my tea was rudely hijacked.


A little while ago I put cold water in the tea kettle, set it on the stove to boil, then put a teabag in my cup. I left my cup on the stove next to the teakettle, and went to talk to the kids in the dining room as I waited for the water to boil.

D was doing stuff in the kitchen, then went back into the garage.

We have a whistling teapot, and I only boil enough water for myself, so it usually whistles in about 4 minutes.

After 10 minutes, I realized the kettle hadn't whistled.

I walked into the kitchen to see the stove off, the kettle spout flipped open, and my cup sitting next to it with only a dry teabag in it.

The kettle was empty.
Where the hell is my hot water?

Apparently, D pulled it off the stove just as it started to boil, made himself a cup of tea, and left.

WTF?

I'd like to stop and comment here that normal people, if they make this mistake once or even twice, and it's kindly pointed out to them, will most likely never make this innocent mistake again.

This has been nicely brought to D's attention for the past 10+ years, each time with growing frustration, and he always "forgets" or "didn't know I wanted the boiling water."

Again - WTF?

Let me ask you - why on earth would I start water to boil with my cup and teabag on the stove if I didn't want the stupid water??
Ggrrrrr!! 

You know, I used to keep quiet when this shit happens and figured I'd just shut up and put up to keep peace in the family.

Those days are over. I'm done with the put up and shut up attitude.

I'm so pissed off right now I can feel my heart pounding.

Why am I letting myself get so worked up over this, I wonder?
I know why. Of course, I know why.

Because I'm leaving. He runs hot and cold. Pleasant then cruel. There's enough pleasant to make me forget how awful the cruel is, which is one of the reasons it's so stinkin' hard to leave. I notice myself now subconsciously getting upset about all the little tricks he pulls, I call him on his shit, I yell at him when he disrespects me or the kids, and I question his inane tactics to "punish" me (like when he threw the expensive bath towels in the trash.)

I never used to do this. I stayed quiet, picked up the pieces (which sometimes included soothing a hurt child's feelings,) internalized my anger, and let him continue walking all over us.

I'm engaging in a disruptive scene when he acts up. I'm letting him passively pick a fight.

I'm giving myself reason to leave.
I'm doing this to relieve my own guilt for wanting to leave.
I'm doing this so I can justify why I left after I'm gone.

I'm doing this to save myself.

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Epilogue, 10 minutes after this was originally posted:
After writing this post and calming myself down, I walked into the garage to confront him about the tea.
There he was, asleep on his (smelly) couch, with a full cup of still-warm tea sitting on the coffee table in front of him.

Yes. It's just a frickin' cup of tea. It's just a cup of tea.
But it's constant, and a small example of what he does ALL THE TIME.
ALL THE TIME.

Unless you have lived in this kind of situation, you'll never fully understand why I consider this abuse.

I'd say in terms of abuse, it's comparable to Chinese Water Torture.

The Jobs Report

The Jobs Report was on the news recently. Apparently unemployment is down, job creation is up, the stock market is up, everybody happy happy happy.

The employment happy happy joy joy hasn't trickled its way down to me yet.

Here's a summary of the last month:

1. ABCD
I had been working for Company A, doing contract work for Company B, who leases office space in Company C's building. D never asked about any of it and assumed I worked for Company C.

The job ended abruptly. I had been the assistant for an exec at Company B. She got in trouble for hiring me (she didn't follow company protocols and hire through the proper channels.) To save her own ass, she got rid of me by blaming me for an error she made. Of course I was upset. After an investigation, my employer, Company A, reassured me I did nothing wrong, Company B was happy with my work, and in the discussion I learned that Boss B has done this to other assistants before me. How lovely. (In retrospect, I see that B stands for Bitch.)

In the end karma prevailed. Boss B got in trouble for hiring me, got in trouble for throwing me under the bus, and is no longer allowed to have an assistant.

Let me edit that last point. Karma prevailed for Boss B.
Did karma prevail for me?
I don't know.
I certainly don't see any change on my end.

2. The Federal Job
Had a great interview, was told a week later that they had chosen someone else for the job.
Being optimistic, I stopped job hunting and put all my eggs in the federal job basket. Now I have to start the job hunt all over agaon.

3. Temping
Finished a 3 week part-time temp job at minimal pay yesterday, and now nothing is on the horizon.

Can we say "I am depressed?" Let's all say it again, only louder.

I AM DEPRESSED.

I ate a package of Oreos (generic because they're cheaper) and am starting on a bag of M&Ms. Somebody please stop me.

Has D said anything about any of this? He knows nothing about the federal job. has no idea why I'm not going to company C's office any more, and knows I had been temping at one location only because he dropped me off at work one afternoon. Otherwise he has not asked or commented on any of this.

This is why I'm so damn depressed. It would be easier if someone actually gave a shit about me. A hug would be nice, too, but no. Empathy is a luxury I am just not going to have while I struggle through this.


Oh, except when I came home late one evening after a job fair down in the big city. It was past my usual bedtime and I wanted to get to bed straight away. D stopped me as I hurried into the house. "You need to help me write this letter," he demanded.
What? Why? To whom?
Apparently he is now job hunting, too, and wanted me to help him with his resume and cover letters. And they had to be done at midnight on a Wednesday. No particular job posting, he just wanted to have it ready. In case. And I had to stay up late to help him with it, instead of going to bed so I could get to work the next morning.
"Can we please work on this tomorrow?" I asked. "I'm tired and need to get to bed."
"No. I have to do it now because I'm sending it off in the morning."
"To who? What job?"
"Well I don't know! I'll find someone."
So I stayed up an extra hour, helping him with his resume and cover letter (generally both should be written/modified specifically for each job posting you apply to, not generically done, but he insisted and I'm still trying to play nice so he'll let me sleep after I go to bed.)

The next day he slept in, then spent all day watching tv.
I see where his priorities are, and it smacks of sabotage.

This umbrella is perfect.
So I can walk in the rain in front of D.

I am so so so ready to move on, but feel I can't until I get a job. I don't know any other way around it. I have to get a job before I can do anything else.
Once I get a job, I can sign a lease on an apartment (found our apartment - in my budget and in the right location for me and the kids to easily get around town.) Once I move, then I can work on rebuilding a social life. I have already found the community sports league I want to join, another branch of a fraternal organization I've been wanting to join, and am ready to sign up for yoga and the local dragonboat team. I'm so ready to get out there and have fun and make friends again. (Can't start that before the job - no money.)  I'm so fuckin' lonely.

I'm ready. Just... when am I going to get that job I so desperately need?

Do What You Need to Do

I have a short but non-negotiable list of things to accomplish before I leave D:

1. Find a job. My contract at the last job wasn't renewed this year, so I am currently unemployed.
2. Rent a storage locker near work.
3. Pare down my stuff and pack it up, then slowly move as much of it into storage as I can, unnoticed. 
4. "Sell" the extra couch that he hates and the unused bookcases on Craigslist. (Actually, they'll be going into storage.)
5. Find a place to live. That's pretty obvious.
6. Get D out of the house for a day - move the rest of my stuff.

He doesn't know I'm leaving, and I don't plan to tell him ahead of time for my safety and sanity.

Why bother going through my stuff? What's up with that? Just leave.

No.

I've got a lot of personal stuff stashed in tubs and crates in the garage and our storage shed. We've had so many re-locations over the years that crap inevitably got randomly shoved in a box and moved. With my long term, untreated depression and his proclivity to be chaotically disorganized, we never got around to dealing with any of that shit. I really really have to do it. And I've found that in pretty much every container I go through, I find old family photos (from my side of the family), an old pay stub with my social security number on it, or something else that I personally need to deal with or keep.

Like I said, I really have to take care of this stuff. I can't leave it behind, and I'm not moving 2000lbs of crap just to sort through it all for 2 lbs of keepers and 1/2 lb of shred.

So this is my ongoing project. Pare down, shred, pack...
I've been tucking away my keeper stuff in closets and under the bed as much as possible to get it out of sight now. That way it won't be so obvious when I start hauling it out of the house.
I need to do what I need to do, right?

Once I get a job I'll move the packed boxes from my bedroom hiding places into my storage locker. Then I'll slowly move my boxes out of the garage/shed into storage. A box every day or three won't be noticed. I even have plans to replace what I take with an empty box so it looks pretty much like everything is there. He is a little oblivious to stuff like that, and I've been shuffling stuff around pretty much every day to keep the storage areas constantly changing, so he is already used to me moving stuff around and things changing on the shelves.

I almost feel like I'm subversively reverse-gaslighting him in order to protect myself.
Again. I've gotta do what I need to do.