I Hate My Husband Redux

Goddamn.

I have been making such a concerted effort to be positive, trying to find real hope and seeing progress in the stupidest little fucking things that my husband does. No matter what, though, it seems like he somehow thinks that I am treating him unjustly.

He is tattooing at the house again tonight. All night long last night, I couldn't sleep well because it was so cold in the house. I assumed it was because it's cold outside, and I kept waking up and piling blankets on myself until I was finally able to sleep. This evening, I went to check the thermostat, and I saw that he had turned it on to air conditioning and set it at 61 degrees.

Now if it were 98 degrees outside, 61 would still be a ridiculous setting. However, it is not anything like 98 degrees outside. It's something like 50 degrees outside. I turned the air over to heat, and when he came home, I said, "You left the air conditioning on 61 degrees today. Could you never do that again?"

As I thought his behavior was ridiculous, I am sure I asked him with a tone that was rather cold; however, I didn't berate him, I didn't point out that I was the one paying the bill and that he shouldn't even touch the fucking thermostat, and I didn't yell. I just asked.

A few minutes later, he came downstairs and turned the heat over to air conditioning. I said to him, "Why don't we turn the whole thing off, and that way you won't be hot and I won't be cold?" and he blew up at me. "YOU TREAT ME LIKE SHIT. AS SOON AS I GET HOME FROM WORK, YOU ATTACK ME ABOUT SOMETHING. YOU WANT ME TO FEEL LIKE A FUCK UP ALL THE TIME."

Blah Blah Blah.

There are so many things about his tirade that make me crazy. I am pretty sure that I offered a compromise position on the thermostat that was more than reasonable. And while I understand that he has been at work all day and that he is tired, I have also been at work all day. I am tired. I am tired and I don't want to be cold.

Additionally, I've been going to work all day for the last two months. I haven't exactly come home every day to a clean house and a warm reception.

I know this is part of addiction--this wild self absorption. I know that I need to detach from the situation. I know that by being angry at my husband and engaging his assinine behavior, I am only messing up my own serenity.

It's SO HARD to detach in these situations. I want to scream at him, "I AM TREATING YOU FAIRLY." It's not right for him to make me feel like I'm being unfair.

I am being beyond fair. I'm being awesome. I'm being amazing...and I give him credit for his little successes, like yesterday morning when he admitted that he had stolen money from the guy he's tattooing. I want credit for my good behavior, too.

The most frustrating part, I think, is that I was doing the thing where I was trying not to embarass him in front of his client. So he gets to stomp around and rant about how I run everything around here and I control everything--which presents this image of a husband whose shrewish wife controls all the temperatures in the house and all the money and the car even though he works hard and contributes his fair share, and GODDAMN as the man of the house he can have the air be 61 degrees if he wants to!!!--but I can't say, "...but I only have 84 dollars in my checking account, and you aren't paying bills right now, and I can't afford 61 degree store bought air, so goddamn it go to hell..." because I'm trying to do better in front of people.

I tried to give him an opportunity to make up, too. He was sitting at the kitchen table eating food that I'd bought for him, and I asked him to come talk to me. He stomped into the bedroom, screaming, "IT'S THE SAME THING EVERY DAY. YOU TREAT ME LIKE SHIT." etc. etc. etc. He left me sobbing and went to rant to his client about how I'm a drama queen and I treat him like shit all the time as soon as he comes home from work (as if he's been going to work regularly, duh).
Enough ranting.

Sometimes, when he has been unreasonable, he needs some time to think about it, and then it's better--like the time that he had a fit about how I said he might have hepatitis. The next morning, he apologized, and he said he'd be better if he could. Maybe tomorrow that will happen.