Aaand he hates me again. in The Big, Blue House, year one.

I got two whole weeks of decent behavior before it broke tonight, as I knew it inevitably would. He huffed at me because I didn’t hear what he was saying as I was walking past. When I misunderstood he shook his head and made a frustrated huff. He was talking about some lady who was in Laurel and Hardy movies, and I thought he said she made Busch beer. He said, “NO, I said her NAME was like Busch beer!”.

Maybe half an hour after that I was trying to replace a light bulb on the front porch, so he went to the basement and brought me two possible replacements. One was too big, the other too high of a wattage. Apparently neither of them working out was an affront to him personally, and he was angrily looking for the tape measure and the old bulb. I asked why, and he yells, “So I can measure the bulb!”. I asked why again, because this was odd behavior, and he yells, “To see if it fits!” I said I already know it fits I had it in there. The wattage is just too high, I’m afraid it would melt the plastic. (It’s a decorative light string with little plastic globes.) He yells, “The last I heard you couldn’t find the size!” (That’s a lie just for the sake of perpetuating an argument, I told him I’d found some on Amazon.) I said Well I did, they’re G40 light bulbs. And then he just stared blankly at me.

I said I can see I’m getting on your nerves, I’ll go away. I knew it wouldn’t last. It never does.

Now I have to wear earplugs with noise canceling headphones over the top any time I go downstairs for 3-7 days, until he decides to pretend to care a while again.

Over, and over, and over. Every 2-6 weeks.

Does he really hate me and pretend to care when he’s nice; or does he really care and have some horrible personality disorder that has warped his idea of what a relationship should be?

It doesn’t matter. I can’t leave, so I’m reduced to living in the second and third floors half the time, and I f***ing hate it.

People will tell me to leave, that’s the obvious advice. But I’m on SSI. Leaving means living in a low income apartment in a rough part of town, and I have no friends or family. Better to be bullied than potentially robbed or shot at.

So I trudge on. Days like this I hope to outlive him so I can have a little peace before I’m dead.

Addendum, two hours later: It is incredibly deflating, having no one. And worse, being trapped with someone who has a weird parasitic need to keep me sad, frustrated, and under his thumb.

If I hung myself in the closet, I wonder if he’d be angry at me, for leaving him to deal with the coroner.

Last updated September 26, 2022