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 | Blogs > Mrs_CIGAR > Happy NAILS to you!!! > Don't read this if you don't like Crybabies. |
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At what point should someone make a sacrifice for the sake of themselves? Let's be honest. California is the place I did NOT want to be for oh so many reasons. And my Hubby has known this from about the third time we ever talked. I'm on meds that make sun time dangerous. But I try. More than 10 minutes and I blister and break out in a rash. So since landing here I have tried to limit my sun time to five minutes to build up slowly because I know the time is coming when I will have to be out in the sun for an extended time and I don't want to end up in an emergency room. I use the strongest sunblock I can on my face because I can't avoid sun there no matter what. Heat just kills me. So I am a night person. I feel like that family that they call vampires because they only come out at night. This is an agricultural state in general and in particular where we are living. So there is constant dirt in the air. And I cough all night. We have hypoallergenic filters in the AC ducts and short of wearing a mask full time I don't know what else to do. Hubby knew all this and more. When he wanted to leave Maine because he hates the snow I was willing but said "Please, anywhere but Central California. I'll go anywhere but there." I understand about not loving, or at least liking, where you live. And I understand about even if you like where you live sometimes it's not good for you and you have to go. But I guess he thought that I was exggerating. Yesterday, I stood in shock then in tears because we were on the motorcycle for a 'short ride' which turned out to be over three hours. My face blistered. My eyes were flowing like a river and I couldn't stop coughing. Unfortunately he got disoriented on the road and was heading in a direction he didn't mean to and when I offered my advice about what direction I thought we were heading in he got snippy. So I said "I'll just ride back here and keep my mouth shut." Next thing I know he has whipped into a parking lot, ripped off his helmet and is screaming at me. I was mute because I was waiting for him to get to the point of the tirade. I wanted to die. People were watching. At least he had the decency to park us in the shade before he launched on me. It's not my fault I can't live comfortably here and he knew that before he brought us here. I want to go home, but he likes it here. He hates snow so I won't ask him to go back. He loves these flat roads because he can blast down them on the motorcycle like a madman but having me with him holds him back. He is still officiating at ballgames, but I don't go because out here it seems you are supposed to be sunworshipping every hour of the day and there is no such thing as trees around the fields, so I can't go. He thinks I am not supportive of him. I don't make a habit of sharing my thoughts and feelings about living here with him because I can see how joyous he is about the weather (so far) So I sometimes talk to my sister in law online and pour my heart out. Good idea, right???? Well not when I have left my messenger on and she pops up while he's scheduling a game and asks me if I am planning to go back to Maine. Imagine my surprise when I am sitting on the toilet and he bursts into the bathroom telling me we have to have a talk. So I talked. And he didn't like anything I had to say. I hate California. It has always been the death of everything to me. It is haunted and uncomfortable. And now it's killing my marriageas well. Sure didn't take long. I have left this state multiple times. In 77 I joined the Air Force and volunteered for anywhere on the East Coast or overseas and got sent back 30 minutes from where I grew up. After two years I managed to get an overseas assignment which was HEAVEN but because of the program I was in was retrieved back to California. Got myself another assigment and cross trained and went back overseas, but met and married a man that got us assigned back to California. We went overseas again, but were sent back to California. He got out of the service and moved us to the Southern California desert. 8 years of that and finally I moved to Maine where he was supposed to come along but he didn't. So I lived there alone. Cooler temps, shorter summers, extremely short pollen season, and for once in my life I became like a normal person. I hadn't used an inhaler for 7 years. I didn't need as many meds so I could actually go out in the sun. And there were trees everywhere so when I met Hubby #3 I could go watch his games and sit in the shade. I loved my little life back there. I want to go home. But even if he went with me it would never be the same because I will always feel guilty. So if I go I will be going alone. Again. |
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 5/9/2008 9:02 am |
Your probably NOT going to like what I have to say. What kind of husband takes a wife the one place that she doesn't want to go, takes her to a place that adversily affects her health, and then yells and berates her when she is miserable. That's not the kind of husband that I want. Good job or not, he should not have taken you there. So now that your there what are you going to do? Do you go to church, maybe some couples counseling with the pastor or priest. If not, maybe couples therapy with a doctor. You have to do something....how miserable and resentful are you going to be, if you just bottle up all this inside? I'm sending you a big hug and I wish I could do something for you. Marriage isn't suppose to be like this....you make decisions together...for the well being of you both.
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5/5/2008 10:25 am |
I'm a crybaby. I LIKE myself (I think). California looks like the surface of the MOON! I been there and I didn't like it. Santa Monica is a beach for homeless people who approach people asking for 20 dollars all day. Transfer to the US Navy and hopefully stay at sea and away from California! Tell them you are ALERGIC to California! TAKEN it yet? Yes or No? ( )
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5/5/2008 8:06 am |
Reading this fills me with such sadness. My heart goes out to you. I'm dyslexic. I scream Ho Dog instead of Oh God in the throes of passion.
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