Do You Talk To Your Spouse?

I was told I don’t talk to my spouse, I “dump” on her.

I was also told spouses don’t talk all the time, “not normal ones anyway”.

I want my spouse to tell me everything. Some of it I may not be able to handle, but I want her to tell me everything about her all the time.

  • Is that too much to ask?

She wants me to just not talk to her. She says it feels like a bad therapy session when I do.

I don’t know what to do.

  • Help?

Short Update

A short update is all I have time for. I am writing incessantly and I am reviewing constantly for Divertir publishing and then there is the writing group that I started that I am back working for that is taking all my time. Between all of that and cleaning the house and occasionally taking care of the toddler and spending what little time I have left over with the wife I don’t know how to breathe anymore.

I love it all though. If I could find a job I would love it even more. Would not cut anything out, I would just rearrange stuff to give me time to work. Give me a job universe and I will give you my all.

As far as a job goes I need a desk job so I can sit due to my arthritis and degenerative disc thingy, not to mention the nerve disorder. I also need something relatively low stress because of the schizophrenia and the anxiety attacks.

There’s my update. Ask me questions, really, and I will answer them. Please ask me questions.

Pleasured

Here we are again:
you down on your knees
begging me, “Please
let me please you” again.

And I can’t look into your eyes
and tell you no anymore.
I know I’m the cause
behind all of your sores
and I can’t tell you that
I’m sorry without crying
and you know I don’t cry,
not in front of you anyway.

So girl please please me
just let me see me
inside of you
and I will never
have to cry
again.

Long stares
and unhealthy glares
lead us to display our wares
in a manner that is ungraceful
for anyone who was raised
how you and I were raised

So instead of staring,
glaring and over sharing
just please me
how you want to
and forget about
the world
tonight,
tomorrow
and forever.

Forget about so much
that you forget yourself
and you forget me
and all that remains is us
together, pleased, happy
and pleasured.

I Lost You

An impression
is all that remains
of where you once were,
sheets the same
as you left them
as I haven’t slept
since you left me.

I pray to a god
that I don’t believe in
for you to return,
but you will never
be in my bed
or in my arms again.

Tears roll down
and they coalesce
with all the rest
as we watch
you being lowered
and I realize
that the hole
is your bed now
and the silk
is where your
impression will lie

without me
until I find the courage
to join you
in the dark.

Three Lies I Tell Myself

I can be normal.

I suppose it depends on your definition of normal, but I will never meet the status quo and that makes me sad so I tell myself that one day I will even though I know that I will not. Sometimes it is better to openly lie to yourself instead of completely accepting something that will crush part of who you are.

I will be Superdad.

I will be the best dad I can be, but that will never be enough for some people. I have days when I think it won’t be enough for my kids either. I have already failed my six year old, will I fail my two year old as well? Will good enough be good enough for me and my kids? Will I be what they need or will I fall short giving everything I can? I will never be Superdad, I will be lucky if I am Decentdad.

I will one day be healed.

This is the big one. I will never be healed. I will be “sick” for the rest of my life. I will be a burden to those around me forever. I will always be that guy with schizophrenia. AND as an added bonus I could pass it on to my kids. Yea!

We tell ourselves lies to soften the blow of reality, but when we live in a world of lies reality has a way of breaking through and crushing us. I try not to be crushed, but I fail most of the time.

My Two Year Old Is Driving Me Further Insane

My two year old is probably like most two year olds, but I am not like most fathers and it is becoming increasingly difficult for me to tolerate her. The screaming causes me to scream. The mimicry causes me to smile, but get aggravated when she repeats it over and over again which leads to more screaming.

The thing that gets me fired up the most is when she openly defies her mother or me. That gets her a whipping and/or time out. Sometimes I send her to bed over it. I cannot tolerate it. It makes my blood boil. I hate to be disrespected and that is what she is doing. I have tried explaining it to her, but even though she seems to get it she does exactly what she just got in trouble for ten seconds later.

I know she is testing her boundaries, but she reached the end of them a long time ago. She does not respect us and she does not fear us (which is good), but I need something to change and quick because my hair is falling out AND turning grey and I am having to double up on my Klonopin (at the suggestion of my doctor).

My therapist thinks I need a break and I have taken them and they help, but it is back to the same when I return. I can’t take a permanent break as I can’t stand being away from her for more than a night or three (six has been the max and it sucked). So I miss her, but I want to get away from her. I love her, but I hate what she is doing. I don’t know what to do anymore.

Help me, please.

Another Birthday Gone

September 6th was my birthday. It was a day that I would have rather slept through. A total of 8 people wished me happy birthday and one of them was not my son. I had to take the dog we just adopted to a rescue because my chiwawa mix (Beverly) was vomiting on herself, peeing on the floor, refusing to move, shaking and had been tossed around a bit by the dog who was an English Mastiff. A big dog was not a bad idea, a HUGE dog was a horrible idea. My wife and mother-in-law hate me, if only temporarily, for getting rid of the dog, but I really had no choice as I could not put my Beverly in any more danger. I cleaned the couch to get rid of the big dog’s smell and I made dinner. I took care of my daughter so my wife could work and I got no time to myself. My wife did not even wish me a happy birthday until after 5pm. She did say that we could observe my birthday some other day, but it was my birthday and it seemed like everyone just forgot and didn’t care which makes me think they didn’t care about me. I don’t want a party I just want a little “happy birthday” form those that are supposed to love me and be my friends. My family even fell short, but I stopped counting on them years ago.

Another day, another year, another disappointment.