A letter to Bf, because that’s what I inadvertently wrote

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So, I meant to sit down and write a list of things we need to figure out since the little girl who stayed here with me last summer will be coming back starting next week. It turned into some kind of strange letter to my boyfriend.

I’ve said before that I’ve lost perspective on what’s reasonable and what isn’t. This time I feel pretty sure that’s not the case. Not quite sure why I’m sharing this with you, just that I haven’t written here in a while and it feels like the thing to do.

I don’t actually expect anything to change from what I’ve written, of course. At least I’ve learned that lesson. I just hope that I can keep my cool about what a shambles this household is until I can afford to get out of it – which, frankly, may be never given my job situation. I did finally have an interview last week, but the pay, should I get the job, will be about what I made 15 years ago when I first started a professional career. I couldn’t live on that then, I certainly can’t live on it now with the increased cost of living.

Anyway, on to my note/letter, which I will endeavor to reproduce word for word without any amplification or explanation, to keep it fairly short.

1. Food—What’s for S.? What’s for V.? Who gets to cook when?
2. Cleaning kitchen—If he’s going to cook this much, he’s going to have to clean up completely—that means loading the dishwasher, running it, unloading it, putting things back neatly, the whole deal.
3. It’s not right for S. to get the impression that V. is living here. She needs to leave before midnight. It’s not right for her to see them spend so much time in his room with the door shut either.
4. The outer door to the laundry room is going to need to be and stay open. I will not be willing to treat the “ante-room” as part of his “private area” in the house. It is a store room and a hallway to the laundry room. My laundry room, with my washer and dryer.
5. I’m really, really not certain it is appropriate for S. to stay here at all, given the general situation. We had this discussion while O. was “away” for 15 days. Things were “going to be different,” remember? Well, things are different alright. Once again, going to jail has made his life better.
6. This isn’t some kind of library. This isn’t some young friend. This is your son and you are going to have to step up and be the “bad guy” here. If you’re willing to let him start his adult life – or hell, start 9th grade again – without having learned something about far-reaching consequences, so be it, but make sure you understand what you’re doing, okay?
7. It is also your responsibility to work with his p.o., school, etc. Don’t whine or make excuses to them. If you call somewhere to make an appointment and have to leave a message, fine, do it. But if they don’t call you back by the next day at noon, call them again. It is not their “turn.” This is real life, not a board game.
8. Obviously, I know you work nights. Obviously, you need some sleep. You also need to be in control of your home. You need to know what goes on in it. When someone oversteps his or her bounds, you need to be aware of it. In other words, you need to be a part of home life. I know, or at least I hope, you don’t feel this way, but the impression I get is that you can’t stand to be around us so you always have to be on the go. If that’s true, re-examine your life. If it’s not, act like it. Come home without standing around talking after work. Don’t go out on the evenings you have off. Get some sleep, yes, but set an alarm so that you get 8 or 9 hours a day, not 10 or 11. We need you here, awake, interacting. O. and I don’t even know how to talk to each other.
9. I know that without medical insurance you’re in a precarious spot. I know you work for a company that is too small to offer it. Think about that as making about $200 less every pay period.
10. From the Dept. of Labor website: “Time spent traveling during normal work hours is considered compensable work time.” In other words, if you must drive from their office to your work location, you should be paid from the time you arrive at the office and transfer to their vehicle. I know you swear otherwise, but you need to check with an employment lawyer. Same if you travel from [one location] to [another location] on Friday or Saturday night.
11. I bring up medical insurance because as the person who lives with you, as the person most affected by your moods and activity levels, I feel like I am morally obligated to tell you that your medication needs adjusting. (I know sometimes you don’t take it if you aren’t going to work. That sucks, but it’s not what I’m talking about right now. We’ve had that discussion.) I’m talking about how uneven you are during the day, how you go from asleep to wired with very little in between – which is why I think I had to make point #8 at all. Being that uneven is not normal.
12. Please take responsibility for a few things.
• The dog. His vet care is your responsibility, but I’m the one who arranges his appointments and generally pays for them. He needs regular checkups. He needs monthly heartworm and flea medication. And right now he needs a shot. It is your responsibility to get these things for him. Put on your big boy pants and do it.
• O. See #6 and #7.
• Your own health. Again, I know you have no insurance. Do the smart thing, at least, and stop smoking. (Maybe then your sons will drop back on their pack in a day-and-a-half habits.)
• The house and yard. You are responsible for their maintenance. Do some. The yards is genuinely an embarrassment to me. At least show me how to use a lawnmower and how not to hurt myself, and I’ll do it, allergies or not.
• You, I and the justice system talk about how O. has to take responsibility for his criminal actions. How can you expect him to do that if you won’t take responsibility for anything?
13. And while we’re at it, let me just throw out a few more statements.

• Many months ago in an argument you yelled at me that I’d “already taken away” your social life. How? What have I done to do that? That wasn’t me. What, by not being willing t be home with your kids so you could go out and play? I really don’t know what you meant, but you sounded quite resentful, and I’d like to know why.
• Quit talking about [his second wife] as a “toy” you are finished with. It makes me feel degraded and it sounds overtly sexual – like she was a toy in your bed and you got bored with her. Let me also remind you that for unknown reason you are still lawfully married to her.
• Please remember to communication with me if O. tells you something about his plans for the weekend, for dinner, for when he’s coming in – for Christ’s sake, tell me. Otherwise I don’t know, and I’m the one here when most of these things finally happen.
• Have you done anything about trying to get him into a different high school? He needs a new start.
• Have you talked to your dad? Please. Even you said he would have good advice.

So there it is, with no embellishment, only names changed. Do you know how hard it was for me not to edit it as I typed it? That was just about impossible, especially when my instinct was to explain things better – like the fact – No, wait, I’m not doing it here either.

I’m sorry for what follows. I want to erase it or leave it unposted, but at the same time I want to say it, because maybe it will help just to have it out. Ah, the problems of the First World.

So my plan is really what it’s been all along, which sucks. I have to keep calm, ignore as much as I can, and um, you know, carry on. I don’t know what else to do. Despite having a master’s degree I don’t have a career path that will see me through to independent living, and without the ability to actually leave if things don’t change, I don’t know how to make any demands.

Part of it is indeed a self-esteem/depression thing, because when I look at the job ads and see that they aren’t paying what I consider a living-independently wage, even for jobs I would only qualify for with a few years of some kind of supervisory experience under my belt, even for jobs in different fields that I could conceivably see myself going back to school for,  I just feel hopeless and like I might as well give up and go beg for a job at Target. I really don’t see any reason to try for anything else, if I can’t earn enough money for the lifestyle I expected to have by now, especially with my age working against me. (Hey! I don’t feel that old.) Then that hopelessness mushrooms out into a general hopelessness about my childless state, my lack of a meaningful relationship, even my lack of being able to have a breed of dog I’m not terribly allergic to, and I get in such a funk that I don’t know what to do. (I really mean that. I’ve always been a “work the plan” kind of person, but right now I can’t figure out a worthwhile plan.)

So I go play Bejeweled and stop thinking about it, but I can’t do that for the rest of my life. The unemployment checks will stop soon, and what do I do then? I wish I could recapture some of my former enthusiasm for life in general and work in particular, but the thought of going anywhere and giving away my right to my own time just disgusts me – maybe because my ability to chose what to do with my own time is about all I have left. I don’t know. It’s a good thing I’m too much of a coward and too interested in the world out there for suicide.

I wish there were some way to get the people around me to understand how lost and bewildered I am, how I never expected to wind up here, how much force I have to use to pull myself together and get out of bed on any given day. I feel like I did years ago, when I was buried in debt and knew I couldn’t keep paying so much, but because I wasn’t delinquent on my bills I couldn’t find anyone interested in talking to me about debt reduction plans or bankruptcy. I wanted to prevent a crisis, but as it turned out I had to force the crisis instead. Just like then, I can’t stand this any more, this waiting for something to change and knowing that the change is not likely to be for the better, but I don’t know how to make it go away. Or to sum up, WTF?

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