Lost in the Emotional Desert

It’s the day after Christmas and it almost feels like Christmas didn’t even happen. I miss my mom and my brother already, they took what little Christmas spirit I had with them when they drove away. They had to leave yesterday because my mother had to work today. I am so glad they were here, the kids and I really enjoyed spending time with them… mr horrible seemed more interested in playing Skyrim than he did in spending any time with me or my family.

If I hadn’t done some housework, today would have seemed like a complete waste, since the only other thing I did was drive the mr horrible to his eye doctor appointment–which turned out to be a complete waste of time since this doctor didn’t do what he had wanted them to do either and I had to hear him bitch and moan about it and in turn be ignored by him, I suppose, because he was in a bad mood–though that’s a lame reason to shun me.

I had this thought as I drove home from the ophthalmologist, next to him in silence: I don’t care. I just don’t care one bit about his eye. I don’t care if it ever goes away, I don’t care if it gets bigger, if he goes blind in his left eye (a doubtful outcome)… I just don’t give two shits anymore. I feel nothing. I am not sad, I am not even smug about his discomfort. Any emotion would indicate that I empathize with him. Instead, I am detached. I feel distant and unconnected to him.

He went into his appointment alone, I did not go in with him, not that he asked, because he didn’t. He just stood up, and walked away, only briefly glancing back at me, but not long enough so that I could register if there was any emotion on his face. I stayed in the waiting room watching their television wishing I had stayed home with my kids. I should have not let my latent wifely concern rear its ugly head a month ago when he scheduled the appointment in the first place, hence offering to drive him, then again, he made it seem like he was certain this visit was going to involve surgery. So it was my own fault that I was there. When he came out, he said “Are you ready? Cause I want out of here” And then proceeded to bitch and moan about how useless this appointment was out-loud, not to me, but generally so the reception staff could hear him, and how it was a waste of time and the doctor was f’ing useless and wanted him to take antibiotics again. We walked out, but he stomped off ahead of me into the freezing rain.

Days like today I feel trapped. I am a stay-at-home, a domestic. It feels like a dirty word. Ironically I would probably get more respect from mr horrible if I was a prostitute, because at least then I would be bringing home some money, which seems to be the only thing mr horrible cares about. I know I am in a crap relationship. Worse, there are moments, like scattered oasis in a desert, that when I find myself in them, I can believe that I can endure, that things can get better.

Funny thing is, I was feeling all motivated as I sat in the waiting room, I had ideas for projects to start and things I could do around the house to fix it up that wouldn’t require money. I was even motivated to fix up the basement so I could get a head start on a New Year’s resolution to lose weight…sigh.

All that potential energy was sapped out of me by mr horrible and his overwhelming negative attitude, leaving behind only a hopeless feeling.

Day after Christmas and I’m already in the desert.