The problem? My head is filled with thoughts surrounding the move - it's only 4 days away. There were a few moments this holiday weekend where I stepped out of my comfort zone and told the truth knowing the truth would have a price. Like when husband asked if I'd rented a truck for the move and I told him that no, I hadn't. When he asked how I was planning on getting things out of the house I told him that I had arranged to use B & G's truck (friends of ours in town - G is our family hair stylist). He was NOT happy.
"Of all the people to tell you tell G? Now the entire town will know!" I reminded him that we live in a town of 3,500 - that the neighbors will see furniture leaving the house on Friday whether it's B & G who help move or someone else - that I've had to change our address with the school and with my employer. The town knows already. Anonymity is impossible here.
I'll admit it. I've been testing the "Dana" waters this past week. The reality of just who I had become (a doormat afraid of never being loved) and what I gave up to live up to that expectation has hit me hard. I am looking forward to being able to do things like go to PTO meetings and volunteer at church without being mocked and belittled. It wasn't until I had the strength to step away from the fear that I was able to see just how bad it had gotten.
Yesterday, as I was doing laundry, clarity smacked me up along side the head. Funny what dirty socks can do for you! I headed up to the bedroom to gather the clothes and husband said, "I threw a load in earlier. They are in the washer."
This was disturbing on several levels. You see, husband has NEVER done a load of laundry in the 7 years we've been together. My first overly hopeful thought was that he was attempting to do something nice - to show his appreciation. Ha! Silly me!
I asked him if he had thrown in any of my clothes with his load. He assured me he had a full load and couldn't possibly have added anything else. But when I moved the clothes from the washer to the drier (so that I could start mine and Cam's laundry) I found a very small load of clothes.
Part of me thought it was best to just let it go - with less than a week remaining here, why make waves? But there was a stronger part of me that said, "Screw this! I'm calling him on his crap!" ... and I did.
Not only had he done only his clothes when there was plenty of room to add mine, but he had intentionally picked my clothes out of the dirty laundry so as NOT to wash them. Anyone for a BIG helping of passive aggressive?
Initially he claimed he didn't know if my clothes required special washing instructions *cough*bullshit*cough* When I didn't buy that, he claimed it was that he needed to start doing things to make sure they got done because I might just stop doing anything for him now that I was leaving (I have not changed - AT.ALL - the way I do things these past few weeks) *cough*bullshit*cough* Then he finally admitted that he did it to show me he didn't need me. At which point I sincerely thanked him for being honest and went back upstairs to do my laundry. And yes, I did finish his clothes as well - folding them and putting them away.
Why? Because I am taking the high road in all of this. I will not stoop to his level and do things out of spite in an attempt to "hurt" him or "teach him a lesson." I will not allow him to drag me down into the kind of person he's become. I am better than that.