Monday, December 03, 2012

the life of a Debbie Downer

After perking up and feeling happy and energetic for a while, so perky indeed that I was back in the kitchen trying new things (like a homemade caramel and chocolate ganache tarte with a sablé crust and like pasta with baby spinach, fried chickpeas, and fresh mozzarella), I'm back in a slump.

Yesterday I not only went out to a party, but I talked the Sober Husband into coming with.  It's rare he'll socialize with my friends, as he views them as his inferiors.  At the party, there was only one person he enjoyed speaking to, and he was disparaging of my other friends after we left.  The disparagement didn't stop with my friends -- it continued to me.  He referred to "your suicidal bullshit."  I would have jumped out of the car and stalked off right then had we not been driving on an elevated freeway.

Obviously it must be difficult to be married to a suicidal person, but referring to it as "bullshit" seems completely wrong on so many different levels, so trivializing and so apt to provoke the very behavior being criticized.

This argument put me right back where I was, in that dark, deep hole.  I don't even want to look at him or hear the sound of his voice.

5 comments:

Ellen Spertus said...

I would be upset too.

hughman said...

not cool.

Unknown said...

ok you need to bring him over for dinner with Tom...they can chatter away with their big brains so he can have a Chomsky sandwich and not feel so friggin superior... sometimes my huz crits my friends and it maddens me..but I think we need a dinner soon. plus a new portrait to celebrate and record your new body. I still have the book you loaned me and I miss you..

NonymousGoatsePants said...

You should have asked him what his shoe size was.

Not that I don't fall into the same behavior when I'm cranky...

Hanna said...

This is the "for worse" part, right? Sounds like he was punishing you for making him socialize. I'm sending you positive reiki energy through the internet.