I'm trying in The Big, Blue House, year one.

Don has been rude to me regularly for going on two weeks. I am in a constant state of stress, trying to do my daily activities while avoiding him as much as possible. It’s hard. I’m turning the walk-in closet on the second floor into a kitchenette, so theoretically I can avoid him completely.

I don’t want to do anything, because it would all benefit him in some way. If I play Guild Wars 2, he’s often on, so that’s out. If I do housework, obviously he benefits from a clean house too. If I shower, he might notice or hear the running water, and think it means I want to be close to him. If I paint, well he loves my art. I can’t think straight!

All of you lovely people both here and on Facebook I owe messages to, I don’t know what to say to anyone. “Hello, thank you for caring. My brain is too busy trying to survive to do much else right now, please stand by.”

I could leave, sure. I could get on the HUD voucher waiting list and go rent a low budget house or apartment. But I LOVE this house, and $%^&%$# that he is, he’s security against the very real dangers of living in the Rustbelt, which I would be much more at risk of in a low budget apartment complex.

THIS FREAKING BLOWS and that’s all I know.

I spend most of my time just looking at memes. I creep to the kitchen wearing earplugs with headphones over the top of them blasting white noise so I can’t hear his insults. He’s not that bad. It’s the fact that every time I think he’s okay again, he huffs and insults me over something completely unexpected, out of the blue.

I sincerely wonder how long it would take for him to come and look for me if I actually took that final step. How annoyed would he be, having to call the coroner?

He needs cataract surgery, and he’s avoiding it. That gives me some solace. Eventually he’ll need me to read things to him. Maybe then he’ll treat me with a modicum of basic decency.

I am alone here. No friends, no nothing. My cats are my emotional support. I have Zoe the therapist once a week, well meaning but very young and inexperienced. Dumping on her feels like venting at a Mc.Donald’s cashier. I mean she’s fine, but no way does she get it.

I could find a new therapist, of course, but I’d feel terrible leaving her for no valid reason.

I hate my life.

Zoe was going through a list of questions, and got to “What’s your reason for living?” And I paused. She said, “Yeah, big question, huh?” I said “No, I don’t have one.”

She means well, but she’s very shallow.

Last updated September 10, 2022