Well, it has happened. An absolute NUCLEAR WARFARE situation erupted in the Topcat household last night, involving a screaming match between a bald guy and his equally angry, vengeful wife.
It was messy.
Slowly but surely, I have felt irritation at Mr TCs seeming inability to accept his diagnosis. He laughs and jokes with people about it. He refuses to talk to me about how he is really feeling, won't come with me to see the healer my sisters rave about, basically it's the old head-in-the-sand situation. Yesterday, Monkey had cried ALL DAY. Since 2.30am I had been awake. Monkeys cry sounds like a strangled cat .... and it's DEAFENING. So by 7am I was a jittery mess, Mr TC comes downstairs and says "Oh, wow. I had the BEST sleep last night."
Seriously, that was fine and I was so ok with it. I want him to sleep, that's why he's in the spare room. But by the time 10am rolled around, I was a bit beside myself and kind of went numb. Fuck newborns are hard work ... some moreso than others. Poor little Monkey had the worst constipation, it must have really hurt him. (I switched to a soy formula yesterday, and he already seems different HALLELUJAH PRAISE THE LORD). I miss his breastfeeding poo. Breastfeeding poo is watery and easy, doesn't stink and comes every hour, on the hour. Formula poo is hard, stinky, and comes once a day. I felt bad for not breastfeeding, the Catholic in me ALWAYS looks for ways to make sure everything is my fault.
At 10.30am, like a beacon of hope shining in my otherwise dark world, the troops arrived. A carload of six women from my favourite meeting, to come in for a cuppa and cake and hold a meeting here. I had Monkey in the sling the whole time. I needed that meeting SO. BADLY. I cried with sheer relief when it started, and was quite amazed when everyone started sharing. Why? Because other people are having struggles of their own!! Who knew!! I shared, my mind still trapped back in the horror of being in hospital with a new baby, thinking Mr TC would never come home again. (I think I need to keep purging all of that fear and trauma until it's gone.)
They all left, I had a physical reaction to that meeting, like a weight had been lifted and I could breathe for a bit. I even picked Tiger up from school, went and got DVDs and onesies for Monkey. I felt NORMAL.
In a nutshell ... Mr TC and I had a fight and he told me that I had caused his cancer.
Lovely. At that, I morphed into a venomous, vitriolic steamtrain, tearing apart his entire being, using every ounce to rip his stupid, motherfucking argument to shreds. All he cared about when he got home that day was not how was I feeling after no sleep, was the meeting helpful ... no no. He just wanted to know what everyone thought of his fucking house.
There was more - much more, but I'm too tired to write anymore. I'm going to my sisters Rexs house tomorrow and I can't WAIT.
It was messy.
Slowly but surely, I have felt irritation at Mr TCs seeming inability to accept his diagnosis. He laughs and jokes with people about it. He refuses to talk to me about how he is really feeling, won't come with me to see the healer my sisters rave about, basically it's the old head-in-the-sand situation. Yesterday, Monkey had cried ALL DAY. Since 2.30am I had been awake. Monkeys cry sounds like a strangled cat .... and it's DEAFENING. So by 7am I was a jittery mess, Mr TC comes downstairs and says "Oh, wow. I had the BEST sleep last night."
Seriously, that was fine and I was so ok with it. I want him to sleep, that's why he's in the spare room. But by the time 10am rolled around, I was a bit beside myself and kind of went numb. Fuck newborns are hard work ... some moreso than others. Poor little Monkey had the worst constipation, it must have really hurt him. (I switched to a soy formula yesterday, and he already seems different HALLELUJAH PRAISE THE LORD). I miss his breastfeeding poo. Breastfeeding poo is watery and easy, doesn't stink and comes every hour, on the hour. Formula poo is hard, stinky, and comes once a day. I felt bad for not breastfeeding, the Catholic in me ALWAYS looks for ways to make sure everything is my fault.
At 10.30am, like a beacon of hope shining in my otherwise dark world, the troops arrived. A carload of six women from my favourite meeting, to come in for a cuppa and cake and hold a meeting here. I had Monkey in the sling the whole time. I needed that meeting SO. BADLY. I cried with sheer relief when it started, and was quite amazed when everyone started sharing. Why? Because other people are having struggles of their own!! Who knew!! I shared, my mind still trapped back in the horror of being in hospital with a new baby, thinking Mr TC would never come home again. (I think I need to keep purging all of that fear and trauma until it's gone.)
They all left, I had a physical reaction to that meeting, like a weight had been lifted and I could breathe for a bit. I even picked Tiger up from school, went and got DVDs and onesies for Monkey. I felt NORMAL.
In a nutshell ... Mr TC and I had a fight and he told me that I had caused his cancer.
Lovely. At that, I morphed into a venomous, vitriolic steamtrain, tearing apart his entire being, using every ounce to rip his stupid, motherfucking argument to shreds. All he cared about when he got home that day was not how was I feeling after no sleep, was the meeting helpful ... no no. He just wanted to know what everyone thought of his fucking house.
There was more - much more, but I'm too tired to write anymore. I'm going to my sisters Rexs house tomorrow and I can't WAIT.
16 comments:
Whew topcat! I have no idea why men do this but after reading blogs from all over the world, they all pull the same crap. I wish I had sisters to run to sometimes!!
TC--I am so sorry that you're going through this right now--ALL OF IT--and I am trying to figure out how to package up plates so they won't break so when you receive them, you can chuck them against the wall. Because you need to break something.
I think the part you wrote about the meeting and crying just because it existed and then the physical change you felt after the meeting was so powerful.
And you, my dear, are so powerful too.
I'm so sorry you guys are having to deal with this kind of crap in the midst of all the other crap....but I guess one crap kind of lends to the other. Does that even make sense? Anyway, take your time, get your emotions in check...and let him realize how much you actually do for him, which will likely not take long.
On a much lighter note...OF COURSE Wubzy is a boy! "Wubzy lives in a tree, HE likes to play, play, play"...that song gets stuck in my mind frequently.
Oh you are wicked.
I actually giggled a bit...reading your Drama unfold. I could FEEL your fury.
Topcat. Darling. Enjoy your respite but for the love of god...call Mr TC, all alone in his cold, empty house and tell him you love him.
Because you do.
And I love you. Angry redhead.
Aww, TC, this is definitely something you don't need right now. So sorry that you guys had the big blow up. But, I am glad that Tee and Rex are there to offer support and a break. I so wish I had sisters, especially ones like yours!
There isn't anything quite as infurriating as a man, especially a husband. They know all the buttons to push to piss us off (as we know theirs), and they just love to push them when they are trying so desperately to avoid something.
Hopefully, the break will let you all regroup a little and come back with more energy to face the days ahead. You wouldn't be so mad at him right now if you didn't love him so fiercely. Hold on to that...
---
Ahem. Why don't I know what this Wubsy thing is? I.saac was no help either! I feel cheated.
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Much love,
Stacie
this newborn gig is stressful enough- with all the other stressers in your life - you are doing remarkablely well- your sisters are so sweet - I just love reading about the love you guys have for eachother
thinking of you
I've been lurking around your fantastic blog for a while and just came over from the lost and found to say that I hear you on this - it is SO frustrating when the men seem like they are on a completely different planet and can't understand what is really important to us. I'm wishing you and Mr. TC lots of peace and healing, and I hope that a break does you both good.
I'm so sorry TC.
My words are rusty this afternoon, so I won't try to find the good ones just now. I relate to so many things in your posts. I'm so glad that you have Tee and Rex.
I'm around (well, only half a world or a keyboard away).
xxoo
D was here.
I'm listening. I hope that your time with your sisters gives you the rest and energy that you need to be able to handle home again.
men are utter morons. really. i'm osrry that they deal with emotions like apes with wood sticks trying to start a fire.
blech. i hope you get a minute of peace this weekend.
Came over from the roundup. I am so sorry at what you are dealing with. Screaming crying babies truly drain you more than almost anything. It breaks your heart and soul.
I have not read your blog before so this is just first time observations but it really seems to me like hubby is still a practicing addict, he has just traded a needle and spoon for a job and a phone. Addict behavior is miserable whether it is drugs, or work the disease behind it is just no fun.
So glad you got your meeting and they came to you, do that more often!!!!
OH dear! I know there are always two sides to every story but I have to say I'm with you on this one.
I know all about strangled cat cries and yes, babying is ficking hard work, a little thank you would be nice from time to time, its not so much to ask.
In my opinion, in our quest to be the perfect mother and wife, we spoil our husbands too much.
I hope things get better.
HUGS
This brings me back...oh does this bring me back. When Sarge was at his sickest, voices all day every day, sick as a dog from meds, unable to function let alone work, we had some of our worst fights. I should have been supporting him, loving him, being Superwoman or something and all I was was ANGRY. Once, during a fight, I snapped and screamed "I HATE YOU!" and slammed out of the house for hours. Definitely one of my finer moments as a wife.
Mony's advice is wise: call him. Because you don't actually hate him; you hate his cancer and being tired and fighting addiction (still and always a tiring battle even on the best of days) and his plain stupid mannishness. But Mr. TC himself, you love. And he loves you back. Stay at your sisters' and rest. But call your husband. :-)
xo
Flicka
Men. They are stupid at their best, and absolute fucking morons at their worst. J and I have had a bunch of blowups lately (mostly dealing with priorities: I put our family first, he puts work first), and we aren't dealing with HALF as much as you and Mr. TC. I can only imagine how hard that was--especially after it sounded like, after a very rough morning, the meeting and afternoon with Monkey and Tiger left you on a fairly even keel. I hope that Mr TC realizes that having cancer is not an excuse for being an idiot to his wife and family. And I hope that you're able to get a little rest and relaxation at your sister's house before his groveling begins.
I'm so glad that you seem to be surrounded by so many people reaching out to you and particularly your dear sisters. What happens when your happy ending is flipped upside down into a nightmare... a whole lotta anger! In fact, I've felt quite angry towards my husband with just two newborns in the house. You throw in some cancer, and voila- there's a fiery angry mess! Getting away and getting some sleep will definitely help- enjoy your rest! And know that this too shall pass... thinkin of you!
Oh boy TC, your husband sounds so much like mine and I bet he would react the same way if he had cancer, and I would react the same as you! What bloody good is a big successful business to you if you are dead for f*cks sake! Whats the point of having people working for you if you can't take any time off?!
The problem of course is that he needs people to see him as the successful builder not the guy with cancer. He doesn't mean what he says he's just as angry and scared as you are. And it sounds like he is dealing with it by the old 'if I ignore it, maybe it will go away' theory. Typical male!
You're definitely in a tough spot my love. I wish I could help, I wish I was close enough even just to drop in a casserole and a pot of soup so you don't have to cook dinner every night. Take care of yourself and your boys as best you can, there's nothing you can do about everything else.
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