Today is the first sick day I’ve used in over a year. Not because I’m sick, but because my daughter isn’t feeling well. My boss isn’t at work today, so there are not patients, otherwise I’d be at work after giving my kid meds. Sick time is allowed only when convenient for the boss.
Last night was the first night that my husband and I had a spat in the year we’ve been married. It lasted for about two minutes and then it was done. He was in a shit mood from work yesterday, so everything I said that sounded like fun, he had a negative spin to put on it. Being an empath, when his mood is shit, I can feel it and my mood turns to shit. He had to run to the store and asked me a question while I was in the downstairs bathroom. The wall behind me had the washing machine going, he had the TV blaring like a movie theater. Of course I couldn’t hear him, so I said “What?” and he thought I said it with an attitude. So I told him that if he was going to be in a shit mood about having to run to the store then I would do it. He snapped back and went to the store. When he got home he was fine and I was too, and we went on about our evening.
I read somewhere once that if you don’t argue, then something is wrong with your marriage. But, we don’t argue. Ever. So I don’t understand what could be so wrong. If that statement is true, then I’m screwed. I shut down when arguing happens. I guess it’s residual leftovers from The Abuser. Something in me just closes up. My heard starts to equate arguing with loss of love. It tries to tell me that if we’re arguing, he doesn’t love me anymore. I try to stay quiet so that I don’t cause him to love me less. That’s not just with my husband, that’s with any past relationship after The Abuser. I blamed myself after my arguments with The Abuser as to being my fault. If I would have just stayed quiet, if I wouldn’t have been aggressive in any form, he wouldn’t have quit loving me. He wouldn’t have hit me. It has been eight years since the demise of our relationship, and his words still haunt me. People don’t realize how long abuse sticks with someone. In my heart I know that I am safe, and that my husband loves me. My head pulls archived files and puts them in my face.
I just wonder if there will ever come a time that I’m not scarred by relationships past?