Saturday, September 20, 2014
Okay. I have to start taking care of myself again. I've been so overwhelmed that I've completely neglected my health. Things have been so difficult lately, and so stressful. I've started homeschooling the kids. That's not the stressful part -- the stressful part is knowing I've got no support. My husband agreed to it, but only because of our oldest daughter's health issues. But he still thinks it's a bad idea and is waiting for me to fail. My own mother is deceased, but my in-laws live here in town. They called me up on the phone just because they felt they "needed to let me know" that they don't support my decision to homeschool at all. (Their exact words: "We don't support you at all." And of course, they BOTH got on the line at the same time so that the two of them could support each other in their non-support of me. My response: "I appreciate your honesty.")
I did call my father, and HE, of all people, said he thought I was doing a good thing and that he supports me. Thanks, Dad.
It's hard to take care of yourself when your spouse sees self-care as a luxury that nobody should have time for. We should all be working harder -- if we have time for self-care, that means we need more work to do! Exercise = goofing off. I hate feeling like everything I do is wrong.
I hate being told what I think and what I like/don't like. "You're against organization." "No, I'm not." "Yes, you are. You're against it. Because you won't do it."
Because I'm wary of making a list of everything in the entire house and where it belongs, when I know he won't like it or agree with anything I write, and will just want to change it all anyway.
I hate having my shortcomings thrown in my face, like when he goes into the pantry and takes all the unfinished laundry and throws it on the floor in the hallway -- because it's in his way on the pantry floor, but somehow not in his way when it's blocking the hallway floor?
I hate being muttered about under someone's breath.
I hate being "reprimanded" in front of the children.
I hate the constant feeling of being a 12-year-old girl waiting to show her parents her failing report card. I hate just wondering which of my shortcomings is going to cause a problem next.
I hate the feeling that the kids are considered a nucaince. I hate feeling like I'm considered a nuicance. I hate feeling like a failure. I hate having all the little things I neglected to do or that I did wrong made into character flaws. Like when he yelled at me in front of the kids in the hotel on our Disney vacation, because I left a towel on the floor. I had TOLD him I was going to leave it on the floor, because the instructions said to leave any towels that you want replaced on the floor for housekeeping. But I left it in front of the sink, and, of course, he had to let me know that was wrong -- because how else will I ever learn to do things right, if he doesn't let me know when I do things wrong? When I told him he should just push it over with his foot instead of complaining to me about it, because I really didn't think it was that big of a deal, he said, "Well it is! Don't do it again!" in front of the kids. I hate not being an equal.
I hate being treated like that and then having to be warm and affectionate and intimate. Not that I hate being intimate or warm and affectionate -- but that it's HARD to do that after being treated in such a way. Those types of feelings come much easier after you've been treated nicely.
I hate knowing that everything I do, everywhere I go, everything I write, everything I say can potentially be discovered and judged, questioned, misinterpreted, or used against me. I hate that he reads my email. I hate that he has told me there is nothing I can write or do on my computer that he can't find. (He will probably find this journal eventually, encryption code or not.)
I hate that he thinks other people are "just widgets in my way." I hate that the only thing he actually likes to do with me (maybe the only thing he likes to do at all) is sex. (And even that I'm no good at, "frigid.")
Now that I'm an adult and can look back on it, I see that my grandma and I had the same kind of marriage. She loved popo and he loved her. But he was hard on her. He was hard to live with. He was in charge and she was not. He criticized her and she was meek and mild and doormat-like. He died when she was in her 60's, and she lived the rest of her life in freedom. She learned to drive (previously, she had to rely on him to take her wherever she wanted to go.) She developed hobbies that she never could before. She made friends. She was free. It's not that she didn't love him; she did. But I remember my mom (who also loved her dad) saying, several years after he died, that being a widow was, ironically, one of the best things that ever happened to her mom. I didn't understand that at the time. But now I see. She was no longer controlled. She was free.
I hate being held to all his unrealistic expectations about homeschooling. I'm the one who's done more research into educating kids. I'm the one who knows more about what kids need psychologically I'm the one who knows more about how homeschooling is typically carried out. I'm the one who has to actually implement the plans. So what makes him think he should be the one to call all the shots?
I hate that he has no idea what homeschooling is supposed to be like -- that he thinks it's reasonable for me to follow the public school's scope and sequence to the letter, for all subjects, for each kid. I hate that he thinks being involved in four extra-curricular activities is not enough for them to be "socialized." I hate that he thinks that, if they have time to play, they need more schoolwork. I hate that every time they fight, every time they do something wrong, every time they misbehave, even if it's something they did or would do if they were in public school, I feel like he's watching and blaming it on homeschooling, or using it as a reason why homeschooling can't work for us.
I love homeschooling the kids. I wish he wouldn't ruin it.
I hate knowing that I'm giving the kids the impression that it's okay for the wife to be a doormat and take orders from the husband. What must they think???
Anyway, the point is: I need to start taking better care of myself or I'll end up dying in my 40's just like my own mother did. She was 46 when she died, and I am 44 now. My kids need me, and I can't take control of any area of my life if I can't even
manage my own health.
So here I go again: I need to make healthier food choices (no more easy-peasy convenience foods, and more home-made, whole foods -- no, I can't afford to buy everything organic. But I can make more whole foods choices) and drinking more water and fresh juice. I need to try to manage my stress and get more sleep, and I definitely need to be exercising every day. So I guess I better get over to my trackers and plan my meals and exercise!