I guess that’s just part of loving people: You have to give things up. Sometimes you even have to give them up.

The last few months have been a real struggle for me. The sheer weight of my emotions has become too much for me to contain. I have spent each morning of the last week in tears, while the rest of the time I am so completely drained that I’m walking around emotionless. My energy is non-existent. I have to push myself to show any sort of interest in anything. I see it. My kids see it.

I know it’s gotten bad because Owen has gotten into the habit of grabbing me by the face and asking, “are you sad?” And then there’s Ellia. She is very receptive. Every day she makes me all kinds of pieces of art and, in her words, it’s “to make me happy” or “to see me smile”.

Before I became a mother, I was ignorant to the emotional responsibility that I would be taking on for everyone in this family. I have to be everything to everyone at all times. It is easy to get lost in that and in turn lose yourself. I might get an evening or two away per month, to be with friends, and get a glimpse of the personality that is still lurking inside me somewhere. The guilt crushes that back down quickly though.

I’ve been on the receiving end of the silent treatment for a few days now. I’m not sure that Corey understands the effect that has had on me, but it too is crushing. It’s lonely. It’s suffocating. I’m sure it’s an angry culmination of many things, but generally he’s upset by my lack of affection or emotion towards him. He fails to realize, however, that every second I am awake (and with lingering insomnia on my part and small children that do not sleep through the night), I am giving all that I have. I am constantly needed. Constantly touched. Constantly drained. I have nothing left. My tank is empty.

I’m not the best communicator; I’ve always struggled with that. It’s been particularly difficult with Corey all of the years we’ve been together because I clam up around anger. And his anger is quick and hot. And immobilizing for me. I am, and always have been, terrified to talk to him about my feelings. When I bring up anything that I’m upset about, he immediately becomes the raging victim, accusing me of being too much of something–sensitive, distant, unfeeling. The problem is that I feel too much. I take on too much. But, I genuinely feel unable to ask for help from someone unwilling to provide it.

Every month or two it comes up. I suffer in silence until I finally build up enough courage to ask for help. I’m exhausted, I need more from you. Please spend more quality time with the kids so I can have more than just a ten minute shower to myself. Sacrifice some of the video games, TV, garage time, going to the range or shopping. Be present. Get to know the kids. Learn what they like and dislike. Give them a bath. Change a diaper without asking.

Sacrifice. Is that accurate though? Is asking him to be an active and more equal parent a sacrifice? Why do I feel guilty asking? I’m the stay at home mom, and we homeschool. Isn’t it my role to do everything for the kids because he goes to work? Aren’t the kids, and the house, my work? Is that how he sees it? I don’t know, and I’m afraid to ask. I’m tired of asking. I’m tired of having to ask. I’m tired.

We cannot change the cards we are dealt, just how we play the game.

When Corey got home from work, he handed me a folded up piece of paper. The only explanation I was given was, “this is for you.” When I opened it, I was really confused. It was a special request chit, which is something typically used in the military to ask for time off. This specific one just had a place and a time period filled in for this afternoon. I didn’t understand.

I asked what it was for. Corey explained that the guys from work wrote it up for him, so he could go to the shooting range with them. It was to get permission from me. I was even more confused. I am probably one of the least demanding spouses; I ask for nothing.

So, I asked if that was supposed to imply that I’m some kind of controlling wife..? I have no idea how Corey describes me to his friends. As usual, Corey got mad, called me defensive and said I can’t take a joke. He said he knew he didn’t need permission from me to do anything and he does what he wants.

The thing that probably bothered me the most, besides the unnecessary passive aggressiveness, was that we were supposed to go shopping that afternoon. For Corey. Because he wanted me there to help him pick out clothes for a job interview. That I wrote his resume for. That he delayed doing the day before even though he got home from work early.

He also went to the range after work earlier in the week with one of his work friends. And then came home and played video games for a few hours. I did not complain, not once. But, I’m the bad guy, or implied bad guy? Not sure how that works.

I stopped complaining a long time ago. I guess in some way, I’ve resolved myself into believing that this is just my life, the cards I’ve been dealt. Spoiler alert: it’s not a winning hand.