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Somebody save me…

The night before last was a rough night, sleep-wise. I didn’t get to bed until nearly midnight, and then Casey woke up at 2am, and I mostly tossed and turned the rest of the night until we got up around 7. Then all day yesterday he was cranky, pitching fits left and right, and refusing to nap. It was a rough day. I never made it out of my pjs, and couldn’t get anything done until 4:30 when Thomas and Friends came on the Sprout channel. That lifted his spirits and I was able to get a couple things done. I got the trash out to the patio, but since I was still in my pjs, that’s all the further it got. I was planning a simple dinner, so I was going to start it once Dave got home.

Then, Dave got home. First, he asked, in a condescending tone, why I hadn’t taken the trash to the dumpster. Then he went ahead and took it there, and when he came back in I sweetly thanked him for it, and said I was sorry I hadn’t had the chance to do that myself. Then he asked what was for dinner, and I told him, and he said, in the same tone, “It’s not ready yet?” I bit my tongue. Then, he started looking for the cat’s food storage container. I had tossed it before we moved because it was getting nasty, and I feel our kitties deserved a new one anyway. He scolded me like a little child for throwing that away, and got onto me about all the stuff that was “perfectly fine” that I had thrown away before we moved, and bought when we got here. Sorry that I feel that inexpensive things that are old and nasty need to be thrown away and replaced with something new! I bit my tongue again, which resulted in me crying.

So, I laid on the bed and cried, and I heard Dave take Casey on a wagon ride. He just left me there, crying, not saying a word to me. When they got back, I didn’t hear him say anything to Casey when they came inside, and he just went into the shower without saying a word to me, either. Casey wanted to go in with him, but the door was closed all the way, so he couldn’t get in, and he started crying. This was around 6pm. I picked him up and took him to my recliner and rocked him. He pretty much passed out. Three HOURS later, with a full bladder and emtpy stomach, I finally got up to change his diaper and see if I could get him to at least drink some milk. He refused. So, I laid him in bed with Dave so I could finally go to the bathroom myself, and he fell back asleep. I started crying again a short while later, and when I finally calmed down a bit, I had a couple pop tarts.

My back has been killing me from all this moving, I wanted nothing more than to soak in the tub for a while last night, and then shave my legs while I was in there. By the time Dave got home, I would have been happy to just take a damn shower. I didn’t get to do any of that, because of Dave’s attitude. He didn’t say a word to me the whole rest of the evening after he got done scolding me about the cat food container.

I can feel myself sinking deeper and deeper into this depression. A FB post I made last night: “I am miserable. I feel like i am hanging onto this life by a thread… and that thread is Casey, my precious angel (with seeminy demonic terrible two tendencies). I dont know how much longer i can stand this entrapment. I pray for an escape from my own personal hell, some refer to as marriage. — feeling depressed.”

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