Difficult Day

Today has been a very difficult day - difficult meaning painful.  I have no idea why, I'm not a doctor.  I wrote a post last night that I deleted when I woke up because I thought it was unfair and angry, so I'm unsure what I said and haven't said.  Since the nurse told me hydrocodone caused constipation and I haven't had a BM yet and she seemed like that was a big deal, I didn't take any when I woke up, just the 600mg of acetiphentemine.  But I'd already had the cramps from the laxative she told me to take yesterday, and honestly, I have no idea why I had so much pain this morning.  Finally after noon today, I gave up and took not only the hydrocodone the GYN had prescribed, but also one my family physician prescribed when I had a concussion along with it because it was over twice as much.  I feel practically the same pain, just a bit out of it on top of it.

Dinner was this HUGE issue last night.  All I wanted was for Mark to bring something home from dinner, and preferably not fast food and I didn't want delivery.  I was going to find a restaurant near where he worked, call something in for us, and he could pick it up on the way home.  Problem is, he called me when he was already on his way home, near the furniture store, I had no idea what was around there, then he started driving by saying "Where do you want to eat?" and I would answer "I don't care, where do YOU want to eat?".  That is one of the most freaking irritating things in the world to me, so I finally hung up and told him to figure it out.  Every single night I make dinner for him and I figure it out.  And many times I ask him what he would prefer I make and rarely does he tell me, so I just make something.  I am dreading dinner this evening, I won't go through that again.  If it starts off like that, I will just have expired lunch meat, cheese on wheat bread with mustard.  I assume it's expired, I don't even remember when I bought it but it's unopened in the fridge.  There's always the boxes and boxes of Velveeta Shells and Cheese I bought.  And I'm almost always fully stocked on Lean Cuisines

My first appointment with the new psychiatrist is Friday, but I haven't been cleared to drive yet.  Mark has taken off too much work (for HIM.  For ME it would be extremely minimal!) that I would feel too guilty to ask him to take me, and he is totally stressed out about work as it is.   I've thought about calling to reschedule, but when I made this appointment, for a new patient, they made me wait two months.  I don't want to wait another two months - what if I don't like her or what if she decides she can't or doesn't want to treat me and I have to find another one who then makes me wait ANOTHER two months?  I'll just have to drive.  I know it doesn't sound safe, they warn that people are not able to hit the brake quick and hard without a lot of pain in their abdomen that soon, but I don't see any other choice.  A taxi?  How would I ever get one to come and get me and take me home?  Wait at least an hour or longer just to go home after the taxi?  Pay for it to wait for me?  I'll  take my chances and drive - I'll be bitter knowing that I wouldn't have been able to reschedule without waiting another two months, but I'll still go and just drive.  I've been hoping I would have a pleasant disposition on my first visit.  Doesn't look like that is going to happen, I'm already annoyed with her office and procedures for new patients, not that other psychiatrists are any better.

Mark is extremely, extremely unhappy at work.  When he gets this way, he looks for instant gratification.  Instant gratification means buying a new expensive car that will make him happy for a very short time, then he will be back to being miserable.  I've seen this pattern over and over again, and seen expensive cars come and go (eventually). Some are a complete surprise when he pulls up in the driveway, some he gives me some notice what he's about to do, and some he's actually asked what I thought, but I knew he was going to do it anyway.  We've had huge, huge fights over cars.  Right now he's totally obsessed and consumed with them.  I am so freaking sick of him talking about them, not that I didn't know he was a total gear head when I met him, but his obsession and compulsion is over the top.  I now associate it with bad experiences.  If we're on the phone, he may randomly interrupt the conversation on two separate occasions with what I think are meaningless comments about a car(s).  For instance, last night with restaurants, he was naming the restaurants he saw and all of a sudden, off topic, "Oh, there's a Maserati!", and I had to get him to refocus.  He was driving home, same conversation, and said "Such nice weather, everyone is in their convertibles with the tops down!"  OKAY, I get IT, you want a new car!  We'll be sitting here and out of the blue, he'll say "You know what would be cool?  A Shelby kit car."  As if he would ever own a kit car, and I'll say that, and it will make him mad.  He went to get his hair cut, and had to tell me all about the conversation with the guy who cut his hair and what he had to say about him buying a new car.  He found a car online at work that he thought he wanted, and had to pull it up on his computer and show it to me to see what I thought of it.  He keeps saying things like, "If I could have any convertible, I think I would want...., and you know why?  Because it has...", and I'm totally not listening, but he's so unaware of it, he doesn't care that I'm not listening and he's annoying me and making me angry because I feel he has some kind of addiction, some kind of disease.

Does he deserve what he wants?  Absolutely!  Do I want him to have everything he desires?  Of course!  I completely want him to be happy - as happy as he can possibly be!  But he doesn't recognize this is a problem that he has, and if he does, because I certainly point it out, he doesn't care.  He's looking for just that little bit of happiness, no matter how fleeting.  Maybe for an alcoholic, they take that drink, and know they are not going to feel better tomorrow, but at least for tonight, they will feel better when they are drinking.  I think it is like that. 

I would not rather he be an alcoholic, God no.  But...at least a bottle of whiskey is a lot cheaper than a Porsche.  We've already been down the Porsche road, the Mercedes road, the BMW road, the Ranger Rover road (twice), the Cadillac road, I wonder what it will be this time.  I reined him in on the Maserati road - we happened to be in counseling then. 

He stayed in his office when he got home last night, and I kept asking him what he was doing.  He just kept answering "the budget" over and over.  That is very suspicious.  He only does the budget on the weekends, and never for that long.  I think he was in there figuring out how to buy whatever car he has chosen. 

You know, why do I care.  I give up.  If he buys a car, he buys a car.  He's got a problem, he's not willing to do anything about it, I can't change him, whatever.  The thing is, it keeps him from addressing the REAL PROBLEM.  All of his emotions are tied to his job.  If his job is going well, he's happy.  When it's not, he's so depressed.  I've been in the competitive corporate world and know how crappy it feels, especially when you're successful in it, people want to bring you down, but I haven't been in it at his level, and I've seen that they are very cut-throat, they can be very sneaky and will do anything to get ahead, step on you to get there and not think twice or look back.  I've tried to talk him out of leaving, although right now he's committed to being there for a year from the time we moved here, and of course I can't guarantee that the grass is greener anywhere else, and his emotions would still probably be tied to how things were going where he worked.  But if it were a SMALLER company, if he was a larger fish in a smaller tank, wouldn't that be better?  Less people to compete with?  Less people smashing your hands with with their feet on the pyramid of people in suits?  That's exactly what I picture when I think of Mark at work.

Ugh, I feel so awful.  And what I'm writing about is awful.  I wish Mark weren't so miserable and I could just snap my fingers and make everything okay for him, but I can't and it irritates him when I try to make him see things from other people's perspective because that's how *I* am, that's how *I* make myself feel better about troubling situations. 

I want to go to bed and sleep, just sleep, and never wake up, or at least until my tummy doesn't look my Buddha.   



susie said...

When we first moved here I had to take a cab home from LASIK surgery since I didn't know anyone and my husband wouldn't leave his new job.
Also, my son babbles on about cars and we tune him out. I bet Mark watches Top Gear like my son.

KansasSunflower said...

Susie - yes, he watches Top Gear! Now both the U.S. and British ones. Funny you tune your son out, and why don't they even notice that they've been tuned out, even ten minutes later?

I'm sorry you had to take a cab from LASIK - but I'm surprised they let you! They really did? My husband was out of town when I got LASIK, but I scheduled it that way - I got a discount for having it done a certain day I think. The clinic provided me with transportation to and from home.

Since you took a cab home from LASIK, how did you get there?

susie said...

It was seven plus years ago, but I think I drove myself there, and they let me leave my car in their lot. I'm pretty sure they let me drive the next day, a Saturday.

I don't think anybody noticed me taking a cab.

Son's favorite cars are the Pagani Huayra and the Porsche 911 GT3 RS. Fascinating!

KansasSunflower said...

Nobody noticed you taking a cab? WHAT? Ha, ohmygosh! You have these dark glasses-things on your face, you've just had eye surgery and can hardly see (well, that's tricky, right? Actually, you can see better than you ever have in your life without aid, but still, I don't think I should have been driving, no way!!)) I'm really surprised they just let you call a cab, wait for it, and let you walk out! Couldn't they be liable if something were to happen? They were, after all, a surgery center, yes? Any place that performs surgery is a surgery center? Not that mine was much better, ha, no. : ) I'm lucky I can still see! It was the best decision I ever made though. : )

susie said...

Sorry so late. They call themselves an "eye care center." I still remember the cab driver, an older mild mannered, black gentleman. I had only just met a couple of neighbors, and I was much more comfortable taking a cab. I was only mildly irritated with the husband. He was in a meeting he couldn't get out of, and I could have rescheduled, but I was impatient and didn't.

KansasSunflower said...

Husbands with ambitions! Why do they have to take their careers so seriously?? : )

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