Into The Fire
Well…these next 5 hours are my last semblance of anxiety free time for the next 6 days. Tonight at 5pm when I get home Ray’s Ex Wife (I should really rename her here on the blog…suggestions?) and his son are coming over to pack up his truck and the tent trailer. I have my first week’s weight watchers weigh in tonight and Ray is graciously (read: being forced) to drive me to the meeting in Maple Ridge for 6pm tonight since we are leaving before I can weigh tomorrow…and since they are arriving right when we are going to need to leave….AND I won’t have eaten since 2pm (WW antics cropping up), that should be a fun little get together.
Plus we managed to have another argument last night about how I . Do. Not. Want. To. Spend. Social. Time. With. Your. Ex. Wife when he informed me that himself, me, his son and his ex wife are going to the Pub tomorrow evening for dinner. And when I said I wasn’t sold on going to that because I was not interested in having an akward 2 hours making small talk with her, he said he was going anyway. That hurt….and sparked a very unpleasant evening.
Of course this morning things are well and fine again…because I’m completely defeated. I can’t make him understand my feelings, I’ve said it countless ways, in various moods and volumes…he says he does and then the very next day he can’t understand why I wouldn’t want to attend the above mentioned pub night.
I have a very solid relationship and we are very happy together, this last month not withstanding. I am very aware of the fact that the volume of incidents are high right now and that means that I have limited ability to just brush off the things that I can normally brush off…and that’s making for me feeling unappreciated and unimportant at every turn. Not a great situation. I knew when I got together with Ray that there would be some involvement with his ex wife and I can deal with that…but because the involvement right now is daily it’s becoming more than I can tolerate…and you can’t change a person let alone try to get them to completely revise their behaviour in a week….so this learning curve that Ray is on is not going fast enough for me and I’m sure to him it must seem like I’m being irrational (compared to my high level of tolerance normally).
Plus, when you add in that not only do we have to be involved with her every day but that said involvement often involves her jerking us around (telling us that she needs to get together at such and such a time so we stay home alllll night and she doesn’t show or her calling and wanting Ray to meet her to buy wedding supplies at idiotic times or giving us a 20 minute time window in the middle of a weekend day that we have to meet her at her house in Maple Ridge and then she’s not there for an hour and a half) and that Ray’s son is a 31 year old 9 year old who refuses to take care of his own food, camping bills, fuel costs, packing needs and is now pissed off because he’s been told that I am not grocery shopping for him or cooking or cleaning up after him while we’re up there. It’s. All. Too. Much.
It ALSO does not help that I have food anxiety, I will be in Week Two of Weight Watchers, I just spent $115 to feed us quality, healthy meals while we’re up there for 6 day….and that Kyle is refusing to grocery shop for himself (even though his gramma gave him $750 to pay for this week). I’m having quasi regular anxiety attacks about what will happen when we’re up there for 6 days and he’s refused to bring himself any food. My $115 that I spent on groceries for the two of us for 6 days will be expected to be spread around to include him….which fuels my food anxiety that I might not get enough to eat (he’s 6’6″ and about 275lbs and eats like a muel!). It also fuels my pocketbook anxiety because I’m fricking broke at this time of year after summer holidays let alone the hair and nails and clothes that I’ve had to buy for this wedding. It also fuels my anger towards being forced to take care of another adult, gainfully employed human being who is ungrateful and disrespectful.
I keep joking that I am going to have to medicate myself for this wedding and I was really giving that a second thought yesterday because I felt like if I have to medicate myself to get through my relationship then there is something very wrong there. But I had a dream last night about medicating myself…it was clear as day, I am going to medicate myself to make it through 6 days where causing or being involved in bickering with Ray is not an option. I am going to medicate myself to make it through dealing with the ex and his son and all the drama that is no doubt coming. I am going to medicate myself because I refuse to be a cause or a factor in any of that drama. I truly need to make it through the next six days…of an unusual event in an unusual relationship situation. Not for my regular life…just for this unusual instance. I really think it’s the best option in a grab bag of really crappy options.
So, dear internet readers….this I leave you with. Send good vibes my way for the next few days….strength to just smile…as fake as that may be. Send me suggestions for renaming the ex on this blog…because there is internet service on Quadra and I am going to be posting updates of the shenanigans so it’d be good to have a name for her. And if you can make it happen, wish me a completely stress free next 6 days…that it’ll go by in the blink of an eye and before long I’ll be back here at work where the height of my stress involves cardboard boxes and demanding sales reps.
Pack a secret stash of protien bars or trail mix or bagels so that you can eat, should you feel you’re not getting enough.
He’s a grown man who has camped before… tell him, one on one when you get up there that he’s welcome to any leftovers but you’ve not planned for his food intake and perhaps he should go and poach off his mother!
It’s probably too late, but you should get a pile of bread tags or pieces of paper and number them. Every time you’re put in a VERY uncomfortable position (that would be considered so by others, not just your overwhelmed self), hand one to Ray. When you get back, add them all up and tell him he has to spend that many hours or that many dollars (X10) making it up to you.
I can’t think of anything to call her that wouldn’t be very inappropriate.
LOL at the inappropriate. The food thing is unreal to me. He showed up here with 6 rolls of paper towel and a jug of orange juice. He claimed he was broke to which I replied that said brokeness is a problem among all three of us and that for that reason he should not expect me to feed him for 6 days. I wouldn’t feed him if we were staying home, what’s the difference? 6 days here or 6 days there.
I have proper snacks stashed!!! My food anxiety would not allow anything less!! Luna bars…nutrition for women…eat at risk of growing ovaries! LOL!