Work and marriage conflict
Hi,
Please accept my apologies, as this is extremely long, full of gaps, and horribly writter. Not going for any prizes ... just have to get it all out on the page.
I could really use some advice right now. I'm afraid I can't be brief -- there's so much on my mind. For the past four years my husband has been sporadically employed (with $5-$10K earnings a year). He had been battling anxiety attacks after being laid off (he was given a year's notice, along with 80 other employees, plus severance). He has a college degree and is talented in his field. Meanwhile, I was also laid off, with a hint of advance warning, along with 4,000 others in a global headcount reduction, with severance. I went immediately to work, and he pursued freelance opportunities, which didn't really yield the results he had hoped. In a panicked state, he insisted that we move cross-country to live with his parents -- after 2 exhausting months or arguing, I relented. I had been working 70-hour weeks and had no more energy for the fight, and he is very insistent into the wee hours of the morning, right before I had to go to work. It got to the point that I dreaded the weekends and would cry on my way home in the evenings on the bus -- I knew more arguing would ensue. Anyway, gosh that was so long ago, and so much has happened. We packed, we moved in with his parents -- which for me was mortifying and a failure -- and every day I was pounding the pavement for work. He would read or do some general searches. It didn't matter, though, because I knew I had to get us back on our feet. I have a good resume, not that I'm bright or anything at all, but I usually get a call back when I apply. I also don't shoot too high, expecially when I know I need a job asap. I had a few interviews lined up and my husband rode with me out of town to the interviews. On two in particular, we were 30 minutes from town and he'd start getting angry with me and trying to pick a fight and I'd just feel defeated and start crying, messing up my makeup but trying to blot my eyes and get back in the frame of mind for the interview. It just felt like sabotage. Some years back, I interviewed for a job to break into book publishing and got an offer that afternoon, and was over the moon, but my husband nagged me about the low pay until I declined the offer. So it wasn't the first time. He apologized later, but only after I shut that door on the opportunity. Anyway, one of those "accompanied" opportunities ended without an offer -- I recall being really withdrawn in that interview, still numb from the fight. In the second interview where he acted very nasty en route, I had to take 3 hours of tests and then speak to four people. I got an offer for the job. It was at the same time I flew out of state for another interview and tested and got an offer for that too. So, my husband had the choice of two states we could live in, with paid relo, both with positives. He grumbled through the whole decision process. I took him to the library, a quiet place, so that he wouldn't start yelling and we could discuss it intelligently. It would also get him out of his parents' house, so it was a "neutral place." I had both of us write down, individually, on separate pieces of paper all the pros and cons of each place -- from job benefits to local recreation, etc -- basically to trap our values on the page. Then had each of us assign point values to each item -- for instance, convenience to an airport would not rate as high as personal safety in an urban area, for me. Then we added up the pros, then con, categories to see which city rated the highest or lowest. I tried to make the process as equitable as possible. And the activity was so quiet, right there in the library. We chose where to live based on that activity. Soon we moved, but my husband, even though he said the city we moved to would provide good opporunities for work, didn't pursue full-time in that city. He applied for jobs in other states, which didn't pan out. In some cases, where he came close to winning over an employer, he would suddenly become disinterested, not replying to their emails with enthusiasm, or general foot-dragging. If he got a line on a job, he might take several weeks, or even a month or more, to actually apply. Now, I rarely sent him leads, as I was doing some serious overtime in my own job and didn't want to deluge my husband with job leads (once I start digging on the Internet and making connections, I can uncover a lot of highly relevant leads). While all this was happening, my husband was having crazed panic attacks, he would yell at night, and wake up panicked and sweating, and pick arguments. I was exhausted from not sleeping, which is what happened before we even moved into his parents' house. And he'd call me at work and I'd have to talk him from the ledge. Clearly, he needed counseling, and it was week one into my new health insurance when I he took up counseling -- cognitive behavioral -- I had also started having us tag-team volunteer teach English to adults. I felt that the volunteer work was important because it helps people get out of themselves and place the focus on others' needs. By tag-teaming, I could prepare all the lessons, my husband and I could deliver those lessons, and he could feel useful and start to turn his focus outward. I was doing about 6-8 extra hours of work on those lessons and in the classroom a week -- the point was to make it paint by numbers volunteer work so it would be win-win all around. I was killing myself with all the work, but I figured the clouds would break at some point. I was running into some problems at work, though. Folks recognized how hard I was working, except my boss. He would leave early and not turn in his daily writing assignments, sticking it with me without telling me. He kept pestering me about going to a movie with him -- he had some arrangement where he was supposed to take each editor out to a movie alone. If folks drifted down to the bar, at it was still 4:30 and I worked until 6, he'd pressure me to go to the bar with him, knowing that it just meant that I'd have to stay even later to work. He was very condescending to me -- something that the other editors noticed -- by standing over my shoulder and pointing out the obvious. I knew I didn't want to work under him for long, so I started asking around for extra assignments with the newsletter team, tackling articles for editors so overworked that they'd be appreciative for the help. My hope was that they'd remember me once a new position opened. All this while my husband was keeping me up at night and calling me during the day and volunteering. And, of course, laundry, cooking, and cleaning fell to me. I'll never know why. I gained quite a bit of weight in two years from just not taking care of myself. I stopped caring. At the same time, my husband's parents were calling to check in on him -- they thought he was losing his mind (he was briefly on Zoloft during that time, but went off). And his mom started to tell him that she feared for our marriage and added assorted "tough-love" statements that really made it worse. I'd leave in the morning, and he'd look hopeful for the day, but by the time I returned home, he'd be in the fetal position, crying and ranting and general worked up. I figured out that he was making calls to his parents while I was at work, and that he would do so when he was up, but by the time they talked for a while, he'd be in a worse way. At one time, his dad said "people who live in apartments are bums" and that really set off my husband into a downspiral. I finally had to call them and tell them they needed to back off, that we had to start over and re-create boundaries in that relationship, that each time they employed these "tough-love" techniques, it was just making more work for me.
Sorry, at some point, I have to ffwd here. This scenario played itself out over the course of four years. My husband found religion -- which is great, and I'm all for us going to church and putting God in the center of our lives -- but he has the moments of extreme selfishness. He complained that he couldn't get a job, but when ops came his way, he was indifferent or seemed above it. He cherry-picked. Meanwhile, I kept looking for the better situation, more pay or less hours (I would work till 3am or 1am, weekends, holidays, etc) -- stress hormones were the only things keeping serious sickness at bay. And caffeine pills were a staple in my diet. I was so defeated and worn down that I came across to coworkers light a marshmallow, which is far from my personality. I just did what I was told, and worked with some of the nastiest women, who would call people "worthless" or "twat" (which shocked me that a woman would say that). I just caved on everything. If I was attacked on some minor point that wasn't my fault, I didn't even have the energy reserves to stand my ground. I finally left that job. At my new job, people are nice, but again, the workload is so bad and the conditions so stressful (no praise, only "you missed a spot" feedback) that I'm exhausted all the time. My husband was finally able to land a job, and for a moment, I thought I might get a break. We moved 40 miles away, and it no longer made sense for me to commute (the commute, toll/bus + metro, costs $360 a month). At this time, my coworker quit, putting in a 2-week notice. My leaving would put others in a bad jam, and I had already offered to commute until they found a replacement (I could tell one of my bosses was angry when I said I was moving and could not stay in the job; I figured I could offer to stay until they found a replacement and even train the new employee). Anyway, in the first week on the new job, my husband starts applying for jobs out of state again. So, now I'm thinking he might not stay in his job, worried that he can't swing it, and I figure I can't leave my job right away if I wanted to. Meanwhile, he's making all sorts of promises, like always, that when he gets settled, I can pursue teaching and writing, grad school, we can start a family, someday by a home, etc, etc. Yet he applies for other jobs. And his panic attacks start again. I am numb.
So that was 4 months ago. And things seem to have settled down. I am telecommuting three days a week, but a lot of overtime since we're still down one editor. Work is stressful and deeply unsatisfying, so I'm thinking it might be safe to find a job closer to downshift or retool for a new career since I'm so burned out. And I've broached the subject with my husband on occasion about leaving my employer -- and he's said, "well, i told you to quit when we moved." Which is true, but he was also having panic attacks and applying to new jobs in week 1, so I was getting some serious mixed signals. Anyway, since he indirectly said his dictate still held, I figure I have another shot, this time to do something for myself. So, I've been on cloud 9, just thinking about the possibilities before me, thinking about the backlog of research I can do toward the numerous writing projects. I was so giddy this week, nothing bothered me. And I mentioned a little off and on about this departure, just to make sure my husband knows I'm really going to do this (he's notorious for saying I didn't tell him something when I did, so my hope is to head that off). Last night, I talked about how I can save money this summer by putting the fan on me while I work, then turning on the AC at 4:30 or around when it's the hottest. He's usually contrary, so he said, we have the money, you should turn on the AC (even though he didn't like the heat on in the winter, and AC has been verboten thus far). I say, well, when I leave my job, we'll need to watch expenses, so I won't use the AC. And he says, we have the money in the bank, don't worry about it. I was delighted to have some recognition that (1) he heard what I said and (2) he wasn't worried about expenses. In regards to money, we're in a good situation. Never had debt, and we don't have children (a source of some sorrow for me, but perhaps things are as they should be). I'm not worried about money, but my husband always worries, even though I've been the primary breadwinner and he continued to be selective about work for years. Anyway, I was still happy to hear that he didn't worry about money for just this once. Then today, I brought it up, gently, saying, "So your okay with my leaving my job to research and write, right?" He said "Sure." Then I said, Okay, well, I'm going to tell my boss this week." My husband got really nasty and said "You can't leave them in a lurch!" [Background: It's been 4 months since I put in my notice, and 3.5 months since my coworker put in her notice, and they've not found a single replacement, even though there is a person who works in the department who wants the job. They admit to being very picky. They now think I'm going to stay forever, commuting some days, not others. I've told them that I don't think it will work.] Anyway, I explained to my husband, or at least tried to while he was interrupting, that they have had 4 months, and that we have someone internal who wants the job, but they said she wasn't "hungry" enough for the job. My husband yells more of the same and then tells me that I ruined the weekend, that all he wanted to do was relax and that I ruined it all, then he marches out, closes the door of the room I'm in then goes into the bedroom and slams the door there. I sit on the couch -- stunned -- and then follow him. I ask him what's up, why can't I talk about it, try to re-explain the work-hire situation, and he's lying on the bed, back turned. I walk around, and I see he has his finger in his ear. I pull his hand away so he can hear me when I say "This is important to me." And he says he hasn't heard a thing I said and to go away. I leave.
What on earth can I do? It feels hopeless.
|
Linear Mode
