Sucktitude

06.05.2014

My ownership of what went wrong in my marriage rears itself up at the craziest times.  Like, just now as I was pulling into my driveway, I was reminded of how I used to nag him about whether or not a certain bill was paid.  “Did you pay the cable bill? How about now? Now?!”  And inevitably, it would not have been, he having been too busy in his legitimately busy professional career. The persistent feeling that our home life was not a priority in his reality, made me press harder, then harder as his return home started to get later and later. 

The other issue was his desire to socialize in what I considered an alcoholic haze.  Through much of our marriage, he did not overdrink, but truthfully it was likely because of my watchful (read: fearful) eye to assure that he was not driving drunk home, he was not going to do something to endanger the kids or us on the way home, and truthfully, because it just SUCKED being with someone who made an ass of himself being the party boy while I had to sit and watch.  No, not fun.  So my bitch mode would be on suspenseful “lock-and-load” mode whenever we would go out, worried that like the days before our marriage he would lose control; as in before a dating period when truthfully he lived his teens and early 20s in a drunken boisterous social life being the life of the bar. The alcoholic party guy who was the life of the party.

We were so different.  There are people now who love his spirited charm as they would see it, I’m sure.  But being married to it, wasn’t fun- and I felt like I had to be the parent of our kids and HIM all the time.  Did our bills get paid? Did the doctor’s appointments get set up?  Did the food get bought?  Did our retirement investments get invested?  No? Then I have to do it.  And I did.  It was an endless cycle of responsibilities that had been instilled in me at a young age, as IMPERATIVE to do to stay safe in life.  My baggage, my fear to be sure that fed nicely into his willingness to have someone else take care of the necessities.  It sucked.

*****

Let me rein myself back in now, because this little diatribe is meant to be about ME, not him. Because as he liked to say, I guess in many ways, I DID suck.  I sucked big-time.  And it was not for reasons that I would have preferred (if there was such a thing to feel good about sucking).  Apparently, I was not in touch with the real root of the problem- being that my philosophy in life, the life of the worker ant who worked to stay safe, or the Capricorn who was meant to be grounded and stable in the realm of real life..just did not mesh well when faced with someone who did not feel that same way, at least for their own  personal lifestyle.

The more he pushed away, pushed back from the consistent and caring for our life staples (albeit happy for me to do it, just not him when he did not feel like it), the more ANXIOUS I became, pushing back to make, then FORCE,  him to see that this was important stuff that we both needed to do.  For BOTH of US, not just me.  I thought I was being a helpful and supportive wife, and I was.  But nope, it was not to be that he would see it, believe it.  As things turned, I was perceived as a harpy, a nag who did not want to hang out for extended periods in a bar (for at the end, that is where he wanted to be..with his buddies).  Now, he is at his OWs parties, family, friends, cousins..doing what he does best. And that is good- that my own conflict has been released so that now I can be the person I am- with someone who does not make me suck.  To let me honor what I believe to be the right thing, and even, allow me to bring out my own little grasshopper.

***

So now I am contemplating this little conundrum of the past.    I wanted to become the grasshopper playing in the field for a while, to be allowed to have someone else take care of business, while I hung out and partied.  But it would have been a bit of a lie, because a true grasshopper ultimately doesn’t care if that work is done or not…and that would drive this ant (dressed in fake grasshopper garb) nuts.

But that doesn’t mean I don’t want to dance in the rain sometimes.  Even worker ants get to party sometimes.

All the great and inspirational speakers that I have been reading (not to say I have read them all, just as many as my brain could digest on these cold, lonely Saturday nights) say that to be truly happy you must honor yourself, open yourself up to the experience of life- the part that stinks as well as the part that sings.  AND most importantly, own up to your own vulnerabilities, your own SUCKITUDE and then accept it as part of who you are.  It’s okay, because in the end, we all suck- just in different ways.  And if we didn’t, how boring that life would be.

My partner in life, should he ever step forward will have to accept me for who I am.  And for me to accept him, he would have to help me take on the weight of our little breadcrumb, shoring it up on his shoulders at times when he doesn’t want to--just as he might expect me to do the same.  And maybe, we could dance in the rain together…or even alone, celebrating and laughing to our balanced shares of suckiness. 

It’s a dream I have, but hey, it is a start….