The spectrum of knowledge

I wasn’t going to write about this. It just seemed too personal. I’m not quite sure why, considering I’ve written on this subject before. Hell, I’ve written on damn near everything that I consider to be highly personal. Maybe I’m just sick of writing about THIS.

By “THIS”, I mean my marriage.

The night before last, B came home. Drunk. I could tell he was already drunk when he called me from the ferry. I can always tell right away, because he gets unusually chipper and his words slur just so.

I really should thank my lucky stars that he doesn’t come home drunk and start beating my ass.

But instead, he comes home all happy and full of these big drunken ideas. He plays with the kids and is incessantly nice to them. He makes these huge promises and commitments that he’ll never be able to fulfill. He starts going on rants and rampages and off on tangents. He thinks he’s being really deep, but he just sounds completely incoherent and ridiculous.

After we put the kids to bed, I was reading a book on parenting. He wanted to talk about it. It’s one of those books where the intent is that you’ll go through it with your partner. Kind of like a workbook. I knew that would never happen with him, so I’ve forged ahead on my own. Anyway, his drunken self tried to convince me that he wanted to know. I started to explain the first concept of the book to him. It was about validating your child’s feelings. He stopped me after a few sentences and went off on his own lengthy speech about how he always does that with the kids, and how his own childhood was, etc. He got completely off track. I think he forgot what we were talking about. When he took a breath, I continued on with my explanation of the first chapter. He stood up and said “I’M DONE. I don’t want to talk about this anymore.” I looked at him and said “What? But we just started!”

He got pissed. Anyone who has been around their share of drunk people has seen this phenomenon. One minute their fine, and the next minute they go apeshit because they think that someone has said or done something shitty to them. He starts repeating, “I said I was done! Why can’t you respect me? Respect my manhood! Why do you always make me feel inferior?” I just sat there and pretended to keep reading. A few times I couldn’t handle it anymore and had to laugh a bit. I told him I was going to bed. He smoked a cigarette and then came into our bedroom, flipped on the light and kept going on and on about respect and his manhood. One of the funniest parts of this one-sided conversation is when he asked me, “What do you think our kids know that is beyond our spectrum of knowledge?” At that point I actually laughed really hard, and then buried my head under the covers to drown him out.

I’m so insanely sick of the alcohol use. I can hardly enjoy a glass of wine anymore because my hatred for how the stuff affects my husband is growing at an alarming rate.

The whole marriage is just the biggest pile of shit ever.

And I keep saying I’ll leave. I get divorce papers started. I shred them. I look for a job. I get scared. I make plans. I back out.

The simple fact is that I am enjoying staying at home too much. I know that I would lose all that if I divorced. My marriage is not so unbearable that I am willing to give it up. I want to raise my kids. Is that so terrible?


3 Responses to “The spectrum of knowledge”

  1. 1 ladyareto February 28, 2007 at 10:15 pm

    yeah. i’m definitely giving up on relationships.

  2. 2 Kind of Crunchy Mama March 2, 2007 at 9:14 pm

    No advice, just sorry you are going through this.

  3. 3 antropologa March 4, 2007 at 3:38 am

    No, it’s not so terrible. It’s very reasonable. I wish you the best in whatever you do. Thinking of you. I wish for you that you be cherished and plied with witty talk.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: