When Silence is not Golden

My (almost ex)husband with whom I never never gained access or achieved genuine intimacy pretty much refused to talk to me about anything not brought up by him. I found this to be lonely, painful, humiliating, a reflection of my own unworthiness. Disturbingly, I embraced the challenge to make myself worthy.
I was rarely shown eye contact or a smile unless it was part of an initiative. And never a comforting word of support or loyalty.
I would speak to him and wait. "Why are you looking at me like that?" he would ask. I would reply, "because I want you to say something". He'd ask with resignation and irritation what I'd like for him to say.
And that's how we lived when we weren't raging at each other or promising to be entirely different people.
I am so grateful to know the name for this and to have been shown the solution. No longer soldiering through the long march to death that was our marriage, I accept the futility of hoping for and trying to experience what was never to be. I neither caused nor imagined this painful dynamic. Now I am free to stop participating in the abuse and destruction of (myself and)my children's parents.
I am free to live life and to grow into the type of woman, mother, daughter, and friend I am meant to be.

More Whine please...I Mean Swine

In the middle of the night between Baby Bert's agonizing cries, the giant meatball of my family drama drains me further.  Holding and soothing my little nugget at all hours is effortless, when his comfort is all that matters.  What kicks my ass are the dark  waking hours between cries.  The clockwork wailings continue nightly at approximately  1:15 a.m.  Additionally, both little guys and I were housebound; coughing, sniffling, sneezing, blowing and smearing (some tissues, mostly sleeves and countless gooey diapers) for days.

I am feeling withdrawn and remiss over having lost touch in these last weeks.    More than once, I sat down to initiate connection and then realized all I felt like doing was bitching.  The inability to shake it off and put on a happy face eludes me as does an ability to enjoy fitful sleep amidst  repeated disruptions.  I wanted to spare you.  I am ashamed of my continued failure to just "relax" and be cool or even interesting.   I would like to share the ridiculous, the sweet, the enlightening.   And I aim to.....after I vex you further with  the "ordinary" circumstances that leave me lame(r). 

As for the image of this nose blowing woman.  IN MY DREAMS!!!  Ha.  To nurse my own cold in a large freshly made bed with some personal space in a clean spartan white room (in a stark white robe with cute dignified jammies).  This, while my boys are happily engaged and cared for in a location out of my earshot and sight.  Then, with new found wellness, some days intermingled with activity designed specifically for my own enrichment.  Oh, if only.
My only real contentment is my time with my boys. So unhealthy(for all). Maybe this is what I share with some big celebrities.  You know, consumed by the one thing you value most and neglecting to balance and fully enjoy life.  I hunger for any other source of satisfaction.
The times are in fact as wonderful as they are difficult.  but how about a little sleep, exercise, a social life, some fun with my husband, a meal sitting down and uninterrupted.  Is this so much to want?
Oddly, I relish most every minute with the little guys and still I countdown to nap-time as if a magical transformation will occur. Then, empty and tense as they sleep,  (our only real time apart) I scramble at chores.  I am staaaaarrrrving for more.

I am plagued by an unreasonable wish for reliable family connections nearby.... who are interested in offering to take the boys for a few hours.
Soon:   I hope to have the energy to take better care of myself if for no other reason, than that I owe it to my family to be satisfied with my life.