Supposed to be studying. I don’t think there’s much chance I’ll fit any more information about immunology into my brain so I’m just going to focus on what I already know and revise that. I need 50% on this exam to pass the unit. The anxiety is real.
After inviting Ian and Macy (backstory: she turns five in a week and I haven’t seen her since she was five months old) to the museum, and not being acknowledged. We had a discussion and realised that his future goals are the same as my future goals except his include having all of our children together and being a family. My goals were pretty much fuck you I’ll do what I want whether you’re coming along or not. But it was reassuring to know that we were pretty much parallel.
Two days pass, and I go to visit Ians’ sister, Karen, and her daughter. Our kids play and I listen to Karens’ woes. Then she plants the seed, again. “Some time ago I called [Ians ex wife] about an unrelated matter, and she said he never comes to see Macy at all. I mean… does he REALLY go see her?” Well hell, who actually fucking knows. He says he does and I’m supposed to trust my spouse so I’m going to say yes, he does.
But little old manipulated-in-the-past-me is whispering “Remember that time you backed up your last spouse and he was actually lying out of his arse and everyone knew and you looked like a complete fool for ten years?”
I go back to Ian and say I don’t appreciate being continually put on the spot like that. Because I DON’T have any evidence. I just trust him like I’m supposed to trust him.
He says this weekend he will take a selfie of he and his daughter.
It’s Sunday evening. “Sorry I didn’t get time to take a selfie today”
Can someone just whip out a timer and calculate exactly what percentage of time in 4.5 years it takes to snap a photograph?
I don’t know what to do. He is so good to me in every way. It’s just… this.
And I’m broke. And uni is hard.. Uni is all I have hanging on to make a better life for myself and my kids.... and I’m so stressed I’ll fail at it. And then what? I can’t be broke with no support with one kid having an anxiety disorder, the other on the autism spectrum. PTSD from childhood. PTSD from relationships.
I’m not a demanding spouse. I don’t ask for money or gifts or manual labor or call him incessantly to know where he is or demand attention all the time. I just wanted one thing from him. One. One easy thing.
I don’t even know what to say to him in response. I’m just crying to myself like I have for years and years. Because I’m not even half way through life and it’s been hard for such a long time already.
-SP
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