When I was out of my “retirement” from Arkansas, I was permitted to live in my home State in my home town, provided I had a sponsor.
This could be an ex-wife, a friend, a family member, or a civic institution.
Well, my ex-wife wanted to take me in, but she was diagnosed as “mentally ill”, and did not quality.
I only had two friends remaining back in the home town where I grew up. One was dead, and the other was in Jail.
My father agreed to take me in, but his (new) wife … my step-mother kicked me out.
So, I need a place to stay, and I was placed in a rehab complex for addicts, people with mental illnesses, and other issues. Initially, I stayed at a monastery, but eventually, I moved to a community that wasn’t so isolated, and I managed a group home there.
There was some six of us men living in an old Victoria style home, and working at low wage jobs to get back on our feet. We shared the budget and the responsibilities together, and it really wasn’t a bad deal.
I want to relate a story from that time.
…
We all agreed to pitch in $100 to $300 a month for food, and in so doing we would have a monthly run to the supermarket for supplies.
We sat down, and wrote what to buy, which consisted of vegetables, fruits, meats, eggs, breads… you know the basics with an emphasis on “make it yourself” rather than “frozen; pop in the microwave food”. Staples. Rice. Corn. Tomatoes. Flour. Butter. Cooking oil. Things like that.
We gave the list and the money to one of our housemates. This fellow was a “strange cat”, but you know, all of us were a bit odd, don’t you know.
And off he went.
When he returned, he arrived without the groceries he was supposed to buy. Instead, had something like $800 worth of pork chops, and three cases of diet Pepsi. Nothing else. And he laughed about it.
He argued that the money was his; his responsibility, and that he could do anything he wanted with it. And he wanted pork chops.
Well, I like pork chops as much as the next guy, but not at the expense of salads, orange juice, eggs, toast, butter, and spaghetti. Not at the dearth of cereals, milk, asparagus, peppers, spaghetti noodles, and rolls. Not at the expense of coffee, and sugar. Not at the expense of peanut butter, and salad dressing.
He had quite the smug look on his face, and laughed. Then, as if that wasn’t enough, behind our backs, he related to everyone how crestfallen I was, and the others in the house was.
…
Bummed us all out, and I was pretty damn pissed. What the Hell was I going to eat?
After talking with the head of the organization we held a in-house meeting.
Long story short; yeah, we kicked him out.
I was nice about it, and I helped move him out.
…
However, I learned a serious lesson. Never underestimate what a crazy, or mentally deficient person is capable of of. He was obviously selfish, narcissistic, and had no sense of belonging.
So we removed him.
This type of action, I believe, must be replicated at the highest levels of “leadership” in the collective Western nations. Don’t you know.
Today…
Blue Cheese Stuffed Steaks
Yield: 4 servings
Ingredients
- 4 beef tenderloin steaks
- 2 tablespoons cream cheese, softened
- 4 teaspoons crumbled blue cheese
- 4 teaspoons plain low fat yogurt
- 2 teaspoons minced onion
- Dash of white pepper
- 1 large clove garlic, halved
- 1/2 teaspoon salt, divided
- 2 teaspoons chopped parsley
Instructions
- Combine cream cheese, blue cheese, yogurt, onion and pepper; reserve.
- Rub each side of beef steaks with garlic.
- Place steaks on rack in broiler pan so surface of meat is 2 to 3 inches from heat. Broil for 5 to 6 minutes.
- Season with 1/4 teaspoon salt.
- Turn and broil for 3 to 4 minutes.
- Season with remaining salt.
- Top each steak with an equal amount of reserved cheese mixture.
- Broil for an additional 1 to 2 minutes.
- Garnish with parsley.
What is the best case of “You just picked a fight with the wrong person” that you’ve witnessed?
I was just 18, and working part-time at a local gas station, a Merit gas, with the little fishbowl in the middle of the pumps. I was in nursing school, so worked a couple nights a week.
Now, let me preface this by saying I was not by any means raised to be shy and retiring. My dad was streetwise, and made sure we were too. I knew how to defend myself and was not worried about working nights.
One night about 2am this drunk comes in, puts two crumpled up ones in the drawer, and says “put 20 on pump 3”. I yelled that he had only given me $2 but he was too far gone. I made a note of the make and model of his car, and was going to call the police about him as he was absolutely sloshed.
He comes back to the drawer and says “It only took 2$. Gimme my change”.
I explained that I did not get 20 from him.
He went back to his car and came back with a tire iron, and started to try to smash the windows. I pushed the alarm, then left the booth with a chain wrench in my hand.
Very useful as a weapon if you know how to use it, and I did. At least, I figured I did.
I went to him as he smashed the windows, and yelled some obscenities…. he turned on me with the tire iron. Just as I caught his hand with the chain wrench, and pulled the tire iron out, 4 motorcycles pulled in.
They were fully patched 1%-ers, members of a well-known motorcycle club not known overall for their sense of patience with morons.
One of the guys walked up to the drunk and said “what’s your beef?” and the drunk said “she kept my change!” I said “He gave me $2, he thought it was 2 tens, it was 2 ones”. Just then the drunk grabbed his tire iron and swung at me, but was so drunk he hit MC-Man 1. MC-Man proceeded to punch the man even more senseless than he was.
While MC Man 2 peed in his car, MC Man 3 went into the guy’s wallet and took out his driver’s license.
Just then, Drunk man gets up, and tries to hit MC Man 1. Next I know, the drunk is naked and upside down in a trash bin; he was wearing only his shoes, which had their laces tied together. MC-Men are busting a seam laughing.
Just then the Police showed up, and seemed disappointed when I explained it was not the bikers who were the problem, but the upside down naked man who had attacked me, smashed the windows, etc. The MC Men helpfully gave their version of events, with four-part harmony focused on how they had been as abused and brutalised, being as defenseless as they were, as I was.
The Police dragged off upside down naked man, and MC Man 3 said “I found his wallet, this fell out” and handed the cop his driver’s license.
Just as he was being escorted to the cruiser, he spat on one of the bikes, and was accidentally tripped by the bike’s owner, and landed right on his face. He was filth-fouling his way all the way to the cruiser. The cop told the guy he would turn him over to the bikers if he didn’t shut the f_ up. That seemed to sink in, and he went calmly from there… until the cops said a tow truck was taking the car.
Upside down drunk yelled “You C—t” at me through the open cruiser window (there were bars) but as one of his teeth came flying out when he did, it was actually kind of funny.
After the cop left, I told the bikers they could fill up on me, whatever they needed, oil, gas, cigs, anything. MC Man 1 said “No, trust me, we can pay for our own stuff, and after all the fun you don’t owe us anything….” and they proceeded to use the guy’s own tire iron to smash the glass in his car.
It wound up in court, the guy was sent to jail for a year and ordered to pay for damages.
All 4 MC Men were called as witnesses. They showed up clean shaven, in nice suits, looking like they had walked out of a Wall Street firm, and spoke about how afraid they were of “that violent man”.
You could just see they enjoyed it.
He complained in court that someone kept breaking his car’s windscreen… the Judge actually said “you better think better who you pick fights with, but I suspect after you’ve paid your debt to society, you might find your windscreen lasts a bit longer. Right gentlemen?” The MC Men just laughed…
While standing in line at a grocery store, what was the most arrogant display you have ever seen?
I, like a few others, was patiently waiting in line on an early Friday nite in a little village on top of a mountain. The pompous guy behind me, dressed in the full attire as dictated by his religion, evidently thought that by hitting me in with his cart, I would be so indebted to him that I would give him my spot.
The first time he hit me, I turned around and asked him not to do that again. He waited a minute and then hit me again with his cart. When I confronted him again, he said “women in my religion know their place and it is behind all men”. I laughed and loudly said “and in my country, women know that they don’t have to stand behind any asshole”.
Needless to say, he hit me again. This time I said “ you’re right. You belong in front of me. Just back up your cart so I can back out my cart so you can get in frin of me”. So after he backed up his cart, I grabbed his cart and shoved it down an aisle….he had to chase after it and was pissed.
The other customers all laughed including an off duty cop. When the asshole threatened to hurt me, the off duty cop arrested him and escorted him out.
I understood that his religion required him to be home by sundown. Had he asked me nicely, I would have let him in front of me. But when my first contact with him is him deliberately hitting me, he can wait your turn. If observing the tenets of his religion was that important to him, he should have gone shopping earlier.
The assault charge was dropped and he was banned from the grocery store, which happened to be the only one in a 15 mile radius, off the mountaintop
If the US has such a bad healthcare system, why are 4 of the 5 best hospitals in the world located in the US?
I remember when I was a young man, still largely broke but I wanted to get into PCs because while I understood computers very well and had years of experience on them, it was experience on Commodores, Ataris, Apples, and even z80 based systems. But at that point, the writing was on the wall, and it was clear the IBM PC standard with DOS/Win was winning decisively and the PC XTs I had access to, couldn’t run…
So anyway, PCs were not cheap, so I went with building my own. When I was done with the initial build, it was, like our health care system, a frankenstein’s monster. It had a slowish motherboard 286–12mhz, the best sound card at the time(original soundblaster), and an 8bit VGA card which was very middle of the road at the time. It had a 40MB hard drive which was quite decent at the time. It was good enough that I could run Dos/Win, at least enough to gain familiarity with it and sell my knowledge to employers. Which was the point.
However, it was not a good system. It was nobody’s first, second, or third choice of system. but it had a couple of good parts. There was no better sound card at the time, the hard drive wasn’t the top drive available, but was considered among the better ones available.
It was, like our health care system, a collection of best I could do at the time compromises to achieve an objective, but unlike our healthcare system, it did achieve its objective. It enabled me to get into higher paying jobs(hell, that whole trajectory launched my pretty decent career), which I promptly used to upgrade the lesser parts to the point that it ended up a pretty damned good system.
A few world class hospitals in a nation of 360 million people does not make the system good, anymore than my good sound card and good hard drive made my computer system good. They were positives of it, to be sure, but it was not a very good system as a whole.
A system is a collection of parts that work together, by definition, and the quality of it is determined by the overall quality of all the parts and most importantly – How well they work together to achieve the objective of the overall system. Our health care system is not very good, overall, despite that it has some quality parts here and there.
They’re making him a HOOD LEGEND
After former US President Donald Trump turned himself in to Fulton County Jail in Georgia, the Trump Mugshot went viral on social media. But now it appears the Republican POTUS is actually gaining massive support in the most unexpected ways. Which could lead to an epic backfire for the Democrats and the liberal news media.
What is the rudest thing a guest has done in your house while paying you a visit? Are you still friends?
A dinner guest picked away at the back of one of my mahogany dining room chairs and lifted a piece of the scrollwork decorations carved in the back of the chair next to her that her husband was sitting in.
When she finally succeeded in picking it off, she placed it on the table and acted like she didn’t realize what she had done, and done deliberately. She started saying “oh they don’t make furniture like they used to”, she was so sorry, blah, blah. Yeah, right, my solid mahogany Pennsylvania House dining room set was cheaply made.
It killed me to say “oh that’s ok, I’ll take care of it” like a good hostess as I attempted to retrieve the piece she had gouged out so I could glue it back in later, but she kept flipping it around in her fingers like it was a toy. I finally told her to give me the piece of wood so I could use it to attempt a repair. She acted offended at my request and to my tone of voice.
Never invited her back, but she went to the same church I did. Her name was Sondra and she would get really agitated with anyone who pronounced her name as Sandra. So of course everytime I saw her from then on I called her Sandra instead of Sondra. Many, many times. Petty I know, but I didn’t care. Still don’t.
When did you find out your spouse loves you even more than you thought?
Mike taught me real selfless love time and time again.
- When my parents learned about him they took my phone and almost all means of communication, treated me like garbage and threatened me with many things. They came to me and said “you’re an idiot if you think he’ll still be with you after things got serious. He was just toying with you”. I just had to rely on my faith in him. And one month later he was in Kuwait to see me and my family.
- When I was hospitalized for my mental breakdown he called everyone in my family and constantly asked about me.
- He paid thousands and thousands of dollars to come visit me every couple of months and for all the attorneys trying to bring us back together.
- When we were looking up all sort of solutions to reunite. He seriously said “what if I bring you to NewYork then drive from Ontario to there everyday to spend the night with you?”. I was flabbergasted and told him “you would do that?”, he said “of course I would. That way I’ll get to see you everyday”. And I was astonished but told him I would hate that sort of situation.
- When he said he’s looking for other jobs since I can’t seem to enter Canada. I know very well that he’s never had a job better than this, great pay, great people, great company and a nice environment. Yet he is willing to give it all up for me.
- Every time I had an episode and started fighting violently over something very stupid, driving him up the wall, he stayed on the phone with me for hours until I calmed down and we reached a conclusion.
- When my parents refused to meet him and travelled to Egypt on purpose to avoid him when he comes to Kuwait. But he booked another ticket to Egypt and said wherever they go I’ll meet them.
- When he decided to start waking up at 5 a.m everyday and chat with me in the morning because that’s what works best with our time difference.
- When he told me “you know Salma, other than my daughters I never called anyone but you “my sweetheart”. And he said “aside from being a father, nothing ever compares to being with you”.
I can only hope I give this man as much happiness and warmth as he gives me.
America’s NEW Tax Plan is Frightening
As General Patton said it, “We defeated the wrong enemy”.
Children who have had to clean out your parents’ house after they passed, did you find anything that completely changed how you viewed them?
I can’t say that what I found after my father’s death completely changed how I viewed him, but it did have a profound impact.
My father vehemently opposed my decision to transfer out of an engineering program and instead pursue writing as a career. For 25 years, until his death, he had nothing positive to say about it, despite my receiving grants, fellowships, and publishing books. His rejection of me as a writer took our relationship, which wasn’t warm before that, to absolute zero.
After he died, I found an old cassette tape recorder he had repaired. In it was a tape labeled “Al in a Pensive Mood.” He made the tape in 1978, shortly after he’d had heart surgery. In it, he reflected on many aspects of his life, but the part that most affected me was this: “I sort of miss the fact that David is in New York, but I hope that he will succeed, that he will become a famous writer, that his books will be accepted, because this is what David seems to want to do.”
He died in 1994. How different our relationship might have been if he’d shared those sentiments while he was still alive.
What is the story of your life from birth to now?
I was born in a family of drama queens and philandering womanizers. Everyone in my immediate and extended family divorced at least once. Everyone in my family is either upper class overeducated elitist hypocrites (on my father’s side) or greedy under-educated peasant opportunists (from my mother’s side). Everyone of them has a story to tell, everyone wanted something more out of their lives or nobody was happy. I mean,seriously, as a child, I don’t think I knew one single happy couple who actually loved each other or a happy person who was satisfied with their life.
My parents were absent ones who were too focused on their rather successful careers and their dramas. They divorced,then both remarried and both had affairs. My dad didn’t divorce because my stepmom pretended that nothing happened. My mom divorced two other times and finally settled down with some young movie director and that’s the last I heard of her back in early 2000s.
I grew up with my grandma, who had her own juicy skeletons (yes, plural) in the closet. She suffered from major depression, but she wasn’t diagnosed until much later. So there was me, isolated with my depressed grandma, watching the fabulous lives of my father and mother unfold each on their own and which I was never part of any of it. And like most absent and successful parents, they eased their guilt by giving me the best life money can buy.
As a child, I never felt the absence of anything. I had the best clothes, the best books and the best toys. I was the first in my class to own a pager, a Walkman, a PC, a cellphone or a car… I was signed up in all of the after school interests classes. I played two instruments poorly.
My family sure had high hopes for me. And I sure disappointed them in every possible way. My dad used to lament how I didn’t get my mother’s looks or his brain. All I got was stubbornness, which wasn’t a good character trait for a girl.
The irony was, being part of such a chaotic and passionate family of love and hate,romance and sex, I ended up being an introverted asexual person who wasn’t really interested in relationships or sex.
Like all good daytime TV, my family lost much of its financial means. We weren’t poor. But we were no longer filthy rich. My parents actually had to budget and buy stuff when there was a sale! Oh,the horror!
We moved to the US in 2000. I went to college and against my father’s wishes, decided to study art. I’ll have to give it to my dad, being an Asian father, he wasn’t happy that I studied such a useless subject, but he was supportive (as in he didn’t cut me off). He told everyone I studied graphic design, as if that somehow made it better than “art”.
I was never a good student to begin with. I didn’t go to the Ivy Leagues. My art degree didn’t get me anywhere, neither did art history, theater or 3D animation. I was often the best in my class, but best in a regional university is mediocre when put on a global scale. Despite being a mediocre student, I did enjoy learning new things. I still do. Learning about random things I didn’t know before often brings me great joy.
Learning things and creating things are my greatest joys in life. All that art school didn’t really make me a competitive artist. I was, as I said, mediocre at best. As an artist I was (and still am) willful, which is a bad characteristic for the commercial artists… disastrous for mediocre commercial artists. I only draw portraits. I only draw stuff I like. I do poorly with commissions. I can’t keep simple commitments.
Suffice to say, I was doomed to make a living with art. But that wasn’t my only worry at the time.
As you can imagine, growing up in such a dysfunctional family I had a lot of baggage. I went into counseling for a period of time during graduation school, that really helped me a lot. I started to grow (a bit late, I know) into my own self instead of trying (and failing) to be the person my father wanted me to be, or, more precisely, who I thought my father wanted me to be. In reality, I don’t think my dad had any expectations from me since high school.
Out of some weird turn of events, I was involved in the BDSM community for a few years. Had my one and only “serious” relationship and decided it just wasn’t worth my time.
By 2008, I was a mess. I was well into my late 20s. Other people my age would get married, have children and steady jobs and probably already bought their first house… while I was ridiculously overeducated and absurdly unemployable. I lived with my parents, I was laid off from my previous dead end job, I had one failed, completely dysfunctional relationship which I pretended that never happened, I sent out 20 email job applications every day and I didn’t know what to do with my life.
In early 2010, I finally landed my first gaming industry job. Of all the degrees and skills I earned in my nearly 10 years of college education, I landed this job because I was bilingual.
It turned out I was actually a pretty good project manager. My stepmom didn’t believe it. She had always seen me as this messy absent-minded loser who couldn’t organize anything. But I was good at organizing things, budgets and schedules. I never learned project management, but somehow it all came naturally to me. It just made sense. I mean, after all, project management really is just common sense. So… out of all of the exciting things you can do in video game industry, I ended up doing the most boring thing, basically middle management nobody likes and who doesn’t really contribute anything solid to the development.
Still, I love my job. I love what I do.
I’ve worked for big publishers,start-ups,on console titles and PC titles,web games and Facebook games (yes,I did).
Somewhere along the way, I published a book about Renaissance Italy, which… rated poorly on Douban because I pissed off a lot of people with my “white-lefty” sentiments. I’m not saying my book is any good. But judging from the comments left on my book page, obviously most of them never read it. They just came to give my book a 1 star (out of 5) because they don’t like how I talked about feminism…. and give out spoilers about Murder on the Orient Express.
Now I live in San Diego with my cat Jonesy.
I’m translating a book (which I should be working on right now instead of procrastinating on Quora). I continue to write my renaissance story (I don’t think my publisher would publish any more of that story, but I must finish it). I’m planning another story (in English).
My life so far has been pretty uneventful, especially compared to my parents and all my relatives. But perhaps I could write interesting and exciting stories, even if I myself would most likely live out my life in peace and solitude.
A book, my cat and San Diego city lights. This is my life now.
Do you feel depressed? | The sopranos – edit
As a teacher, what is the most shocking thing you’ve heard a student say?
Back in the 80’s in my hometown, if a teenage girl got pregnant in our high school, she was immediately pulled out of school and they provided her with a home tutor. My mom was one of the tutors.
Mostly it was pretty basic, my mom would ignore the girl’s “condition” and the girls did their work. I should add that our town was insanely small, so my mom had known most of these kids since they were in preschool, so I imagine that it was super awkward.
During one of these tutoring sessions, one particular girl was prattling on about how she and the baby’s father were going to get married, he’s going to be a doctor, and they’ll be rich in no time. My mom is not one for flights of fancy, she is a firm believer in cold, hard reality, so she couldn’t keep quiet.
She very calmly explained how much money a baby can cost, then added in the prices of rent, utilities, food, a car & insurance, daycare, college tuition, and books. This girl did not believe her at all. My mom also let her know the failure rate of a teen marriage, as well as the adult rate. This girl obviously had never learned basic household management because she didn’t even know how to turn on the stove.
My mom never pushed the subject again, and the girl continued her lessons, until she delivered the baby. My mom never followed up with the girls, unless the school needed her to. Shortly after that, we moved to a different part of the state and mom took a job with a bank.
About 10 years ago, we were at a mall when this woman came over to my mom to say hello. My mom was confused and asked the woman who she was. It was the girl! She wanted to thank my mom for being honest with her about the harsh realities of life and had taken what she said to heart. The girl broke up with the boyfriend who got her pregnant, gave the baby up for adoption, finished high school, went to college, the medical school and now she’s an OB/GYN. She told my mom that no one had ever told her how the world works and how you have to pay for everything; she was kind of embarrassed when she said that she just always assumed that there would be food in the fridge because it had never been empty.
Now she was close to 40 and she had gotten married, was pregnant and was finally going to able to give her child the life that she couldn’t for her first (she did receive photos of the baby that she placed). My mom just looked baffled because she insisted that she hadn’t done anything special.
Walking through Cities of Europe in 700 AD: What would you have seen?
This is really interesting.
What did the job interviewer say that made you NOT accept the job offer?
A recruiter got in touch with me through Linkedin regarding an opportunity to work for a luxury car brand. I gave her my number and asked her to call after 4 pm because I didn’t want to take the call at work.
She rang that evening, we went through my work history and I emailed her my CV. In the morning she rang back to say that the hiring manager liked my cv and wanted to schedule a phone interview.
The following day, I received a call from a gentleman who introduced himself as my interviewer. I went through my work history once again.
I answered his questions, gave examples to support my answers and explained the gap in my CV. I also asked questions about the role and the company.
“You have the skills and experience required, I like your attitude, you are very straightforward and assertive but I’m hesitant. If we hire you, once you get bored of the job you’ll probably leave just like you are doing with your current employer.”
It rubbed the wrong way and I thought it was very presumptuous of him to assume that I was leaving because I was bored. I was looking for new opportunities because I wanted to get out of a toxic workplace, I agreed to interview for the position because I already worked in the field. I had the skills and experience, they were also offering better pay and benefits.
He spoke to me for a few minutes and assumed to know the reasons I was leaving my then current employer, I guess in his entire career he never left a job for better opportunities.
“Thank you for considering me for the role but I’m no longer interested,” I said to him and ended the call.
Hiring managers are so full themselves they don’t even realise that sometimes people just leave bad bosses and toxic work environments. I can’t see myself working for someone who is so quick to jump to conclusions.
Breaded Steak Cutlets
Ingredients
- 1 1/2 pounds round steak
- Salt
- Pepper
- Eggs
- Water
- Cracker crumbs
- 1 (8 ounce) can tomato sauce
Instructions
- Cut 1 1/2 pounds round steak into serving pieces, removing all fat. Cube with a tenderizing hammer and sprinkle with salt and pepper. Dip each piece into 1 egg beaten with 1 teaspoon water. Dip into cracker crumbs and coat well. Fry in hot grease until brown on both sides. Drain.
- Pour off grease and add 1 (8 ounce) can tomato sauce to pan and de-glaze pan.
- Serve tomato sauce with cutlets.
Fed Predicts: Americans Will Run Out of Money By October 2023
Confession of the Day
I have been married for 15 years. I have known my wife since I was 8. We have 3 daughters together. 17, 14, and 11.
I’m tired of feeling like I’m an outsider in my relationships with all of them. I’m just an ATM and taxi service to my kids. My wife hasn’t kissed me in 6 months. She has not said that she loves me in 1.5 years. No matter how much I communicate, try to plan anything or do anything it is always shot down, forgotten, or dismissed. I don’t get angry in don’t yell. I don’t get physical.
I like to splurge during birthdays and mothers Day. I throw parties and give gifts and try to show how much I love them. I get a lukewarm, thanks, and if I’m lucky, a side hug that lasts .0001 seconds.
This week was the breaking point. Father’s Day. I wake up to an empty house. Odd. No note, nothing was written on the calendar, and nothing said beforehand. I send a text, and I get back. “I took the girls out for a spa day, don’t wait up.” Then nothing, literally nothing. Dinner time comes around, and they get home. How their say was (it was fine). I ask what they would like for dinner. “Nothing we already ate at [one of my favorite restaurants].” Cool, whatever. There is no mention of it being fathers Day. No, I love you, how are you. Nothing.
Fast forward to Wednesday. Which was my birthday. Nothing. Literally again, nothing. I suggested plans. They get shot down. I suggested food. Nope, shot down. Ask about watching a movie they are all too busy (they just sat on their phones doing nothing).
Now to Thursday night. I’m in bed. My wife is next to me. She rolls over and says in a crappy tone. “Oh, your birthday was the other day. I guess you expect to have sex.” That broke something in me(best of my memory of how it went down)
I said “no I don’t expect sex. At this point, I don’t expect anything anymore.”
Her “what is that supposed to mean?”
So I started asking her questions
When was the last time we shared a kiss? (Like a week? Nope, it was in December, and it was during her parents’ holiday party)
When was the last time we had sex? (The beginning of the year? Nope, wrong it has been over a year. She was adamant that we did it in February. I was dealing with my moms health and her passing. So I said something like, “You may have had sex but it wasn’t with me.”)
When was the last time you said you love me? (“I say it all the time.” Not to me, check your messages/you don’t say it to me face to face. “Well, you should just know I do.”)
When was the last time we went on a date? (LONG pause)
Her: You’re being unfair.
Emotions turned on fully. I was crying and raising my voice at this point.
It asks her how? She can’t answer. I asked her how wanting any sign of love from anyone in the house is unfair. If expecting anything for my birthday or Father’s Day was unfair. (She got an oh shit look) Yeah, you forgot that as well. I’m not an ATM, I’m not a taxi service, I’m not a punching bag.
She asked why this was coming up “out of the blue.” It didn’t. I have tried to talk to my family and again get dismissed or ignored. I brought up examples. I got an “I didn’t know you were serious.” “I didn’t know it was such a big deal.”
I left saying something to the point of “If you want to pretend that I’m invisible and don’t exist fine, you don’t have to pretend anymore.”
I left the house at almost midnight. On Thursday/ Friday morning. Haven’t been home since. I’m not sure what to do now. I’m finally sober enough to think, but I don’t know what to do(first time drinking in over 15 years BTW, and i’m not going to drink anymore)
I love my family. But I can’t keep this up. I don’t know what more I can do. I think they would be happier without me. They already act like I don’t exist. I can’t be the one who is blamed for everything. If I truly am the problem then me not being there should fix it. I can’t do it anymore.
I have tried to be a good provider, a good partner, and a good dad. Never missed an event of our kids. Never prioritize work. I kept good hours so I could see them more. Took on more responsibility to better our life and future. But, it is never appreciated. It is never enough. I am never enough.
I only have one message from my wife “I’m sorry for making you feel that way. We all love you, and we are here for you when you want to come home and talk.” That is it. No other messages. No calls. Nothing from the kids. I feel like if they really wanted me there, they would try reaching out more. All of the kids have their own phone. I don’t know what she told them. I’m sure they heard me raise my voice. Me raising my voice would have definitely got their attention since i never do. I’m sure they heard me leave. I just don’t know.