relationship stuff
This is gonna sound a bit disjointed. And long. Feel free to offer advice or comment, but mostly I'm just writing this out to help get my head around it.
I have a thing about telling people what to do. I tell my kids what to do, because they either don't know what to do, or it's something like housework that needs to be done. I tell them because they're kids, and their initiative is rather sucky. My house is certainly more chaotic because of my lack of direction; instead of saying "wash the dishes" I might say "If no one washes the dishes, we won't have any clean dishes," and leave it up to the boys to decide if they want to do dishes. I am sure that this is not ideal and I'm causing my children irreparable harm. I figure that no one gets out of childhood unscathed.
Mike is furious with me. And hurt. There are some things that he wants me to do, and other things that he *doesn't* want me to do, and he feels very strongly about me complying with his desires. He calls this "being realistic." He feels that, because I don't want to do what he wants me to do, or I want to do what he *doesn't* want me to do, that I don't care about what he thinks. If I valued his opinion, I would agree and act appropriately.
Now, a lot of what Mike says does indeed make sense. He's really a pretty normal guy, and his life is comfortable. I wouldn't call my life comfortable. I'm sure that I would do well to take a page out of his book.
So. Last year, I told Luke he could get a puppy. We got Nahvi, and she was supposed to be a puppy, but she was an 8 mo old dog, large and with issues. Not particularly friendly, and even once she got to know us, not very cuddly.
When Nahvi had her puppies, Luke asked if he could have one. I hesitated for a good two minutes. Our menagerie includes two elderly cats, two young cats, a very elderly dog and Nahvi. So, yeah, enough pets. We are not pet deprived. I said yes, and Luke picked out a puppy.
When Mike heard we were gonna keep a puppy, he blew a nut. And gave me an ultimatum: If we keep the puppy, he'll pack his stuff up and that'll be it.
We both know that this isn't about a puppy.
Last weekend, the boys and I went down to Mike's Mom's place. Mike and I talked a little, and what it comes down to is that Mike feels like I don't care about what he thinks. Telling him that I value his opinion means nothing if I don't change my behavior. "Don't tell me that this is about keeping your word to Luke; don't tell me that it's about pets bringing joy; this is about you doing any damn fool thing that you please, and the hell with everyone else."
Well, yes.
(Though, to quibble, I'd rather cut my arm off than to tell Luke that I've decided he, after all, can't have the puppy.)
As I was driving home last night, I tried to remember if I'd ever told Mike to do something. Other than, say, take out the trash. I couldn't think of a single thing. I don't claim any superiority from not telling him what to do; I just hate doing that. I didn't tell him not to go to Iraq (he could have got out of it), I didn't tell him not to re-enlist, I didn't tell him that I thought he shouldn't date Amy -- I did tell him that I needed him to do some stuff the last time he was up, but since he didn't do it, I don't think that counts (and it's not in the same league as getting a puppy.)
I think that he likes when I tell him what to do.
Do other couples tell each other what to do? I mean, I could understand if he was living with us other than visits three or four days a month, but he doesn't live with us. I know that lots of couples have deal-breakers. 'Do this/ Don't do this or I'm gone.'
There's something else, even deeper. When you live with an alcoholic, they do this thing, this 'you're crazy' thing. They make you think that *you're* the one who's crazy. They make you doubt everything about yourself. Mike is doing that. I need to listen to him because I don't see the world 'right'. My life is chaotic and rough around the edges, because I'm a little crazy. "Every time you have breathing space, you fill it up with something! No wonder you're so out of it! No one can do what you're trying to do!"
And he's right. I fumble all of the time. Don't other people fumble? Is everyone able to always keep all their balls in the air? Do I fumble more than other people? I fumbled APOFF this month; I feel sheepish and horrible and all head/desk-ish. No excuses, just fumbled.
When the kids got in the car, when we were getting ready to leave yesterday, I hugged one last time. "I love you," I said into his neck.
"I love you, too. I wish it was enough."
"Me too."
I have a thing about telling people what to do. I tell my kids what to do, because they either don't know what to do, or it's something like housework that needs to be done. I tell them because they're kids, and their initiative is rather sucky. My house is certainly more chaotic because of my lack of direction; instead of saying "wash the dishes" I might say "If no one washes the dishes, we won't have any clean dishes," and leave it up to the boys to decide if they want to do dishes. I am sure that this is not ideal and I'm causing my children irreparable harm. I figure that no one gets out of childhood unscathed.
Mike is furious with me. And hurt. There are some things that he wants me to do, and other things that he *doesn't* want me to do, and he feels very strongly about me complying with his desires. He calls this "being realistic." He feels that, because I don't want to do what he wants me to do, or I want to do what he *doesn't* want me to do, that I don't care about what he thinks. If I valued his opinion, I would agree and act appropriately.
Now, a lot of what Mike says does indeed make sense. He's really a pretty normal guy, and his life is comfortable. I wouldn't call my life comfortable. I'm sure that I would do well to take a page out of his book.
So. Last year, I told Luke he could get a puppy. We got Nahvi, and she was supposed to be a puppy, but she was an 8 mo old dog, large and with issues. Not particularly friendly, and even once she got to know us, not very cuddly.
When Nahvi had her puppies, Luke asked if he could have one. I hesitated for a good two minutes. Our menagerie includes two elderly cats, two young cats, a very elderly dog and Nahvi. So, yeah, enough pets. We are not pet deprived. I said yes, and Luke picked out a puppy.
When Mike heard we were gonna keep a puppy, he blew a nut. And gave me an ultimatum: If we keep the puppy, he'll pack his stuff up and that'll be it.
We both know that this isn't about a puppy.
Last weekend, the boys and I went down to Mike's Mom's place. Mike and I talked a little, and what it comes down to is that Mike feels like I don't care about what he thinks. Telling him that I value his opinion means nothing if I don't change my behavior. "Don't tell me that this is about keeping your word to Luke; don't tell me that it's about pets bringing joy; this is about you doing any damn fool thing that you please, and the hell with everyone else."
Well, yes.
(Though, to quibble, I'd rather cut my arm off than to tell Luke that I've decided he, after all, can't have the puppy.)
As I was driving home last night, I tried to remember if I'd ever told Mike to do something. Other than, say, take out the trash. I couldn't think of a single thing. I don't claim any superiority from not telling him what to do; I just hate doing that. I didn't tell him not to go to Iraq (he could have got out of it), I didn't tell him not to re-enlist, I didn't tell him that I thought he shouldn't date Amy -- I did tell him that I needed him to do some stuff the last time he was up, but since he didn't do it, I don't think that counts (and it's not in the same league as getting a puppy.)
I think that he likes when I tell him what to do.
Do other couples tell each other what to do? I mean, I could understand if he was living with us other than visits three or four days a month, but he doesn't live with us. I know that lots of couples have deal-breakers. 'Do this/ Don't do this or I'm gone.'
There's something else, even deeper. When you live with an alcoholic, they do this thing, this 'you're crazy' thing. They make you think that *you're* the one who's crazy. They make you doubt everything about yourself. Mike is doing that. I need to listen to him because I don't see the world 'right'. My life is chaotic and rough around the edges, because I'm a little crazy. "Every time you have breathing space, you fill it up with something! No wonder you're so out of it! No one can do what you're trying to do!"
And he's right. I fumble all of the time. Don't other people fumble? Is everyone able to always keep all their balls in the air? Do I fumble more than other people? I fumbled APOFF this month; I feel sheepish and horrible and all head/desk-ish. No excuses, just fumbled.
When the kids got in the car, when we were getting ready to leave yesterday, I hugged one last time. "I love you," I said into his neck.
"I love you, too. I wish it was enough."
"Me too."