I'm Thinking that in Journal

I don’t want much of anything to do with the in-laws. In any case, they don’t want much of anything to do with me. So… why should I be the one to have to placate and assuage?

I got really mad at DH today. Like. Royally Pissed Off. And I even told him so. It was… not productive. At least, not in a tangible way. At least, not yet.
I’m angry at myself, really, for allowing and enabling all the shit to happen. Like, maybe I have too much self blame? It really is a teeter-totter of responsibility. I have been doing too much. I have been enabling his withdrawal.
He sneers at my arguments. He pokes fun at the things that I am doing. “what do you do all day?” he asked, eyes dark and scornful. “you just sit here and create problems where none exist!”
I mean. Okay; Fair point. But that was pretty low. I told him that I am doing his job because he’s fucking not doing it and it causes me great anxiety. And then he pokes me with a stick jeering about how anxious I am. Big Fucking Man.
Jesus Christ.

So I guess I won’t fucking do his job anymore. I’ll give him the consequences. Like hey, I don’t feel like going to your parents’ for Xmas because they hate me.
And then let him squirm over the excuses he’ll have to pour out to them or me or both.

I don’t feel good about it. It feels terrible. It feels horrible. I have that something bad is about to happen heart palpitation thing going on. But I think that’s right. I mean, it is right, isn’t it? I can’t manage my own anxieties by managing his family for him. I need to recognize that this is my anxiety. And let him deal with his own shit.