Why didn't you say "I do"?

Life keeps getting weirder.

Things have been very bad with Todd lately. Very, very bad.

We're struggling financially. I know a lot of people are, but for us, it's nothing new... and try as he might to pin it on the "bad economy," it won't stick--he's never been good with finances, or work.

The stress has really been getting to me, especially as he ignores bills even when he does have enough to pay them, thus racking up late fees, disconnection fees and reconnection fees until we can't afford to pay at all and we're going further and further in debt every month. Through all of this, he refuses to sacrifice anything. He rarely puts in a full day's work, and don't even think about suggesting that he pick up a second job (something more reliable than his self-employment--or "self-unemployment" is probably a better term for it) or cut back on anything he feels he's entitled to (like cable TV, iTunes purchases, fancy beers, expensive vitamins....)

I've been very blessed to have landed a good writing job. It's something I enjoy, but it is time-consuming. When I'm taking care of the kids: taxi-ing, teaching, and all the other tiny jobs that get undone before I can even finish them, the work I do for pay feels like a second job, and I'm left with very little time or recreation. Putting in long hours working from home, it becomes very frustrating seeing your spouse sit around watching TV. Add to that the wastefulness that causes large amounts of money to essentially be flushed down the toilet--large enough amounts that it almost feels like I work for nothing. I was fortunate to be able to avoid a huge late pay penalty this week by taking a sizable advance (almost 20% of the total pay for this project that I'll be working on for at least the rest of this year). Although I'm happy to have avoided that waste, the downside is I now have a lot of work ahead of me without equivalent pay to look forward to. Once again, I feel trapped by my circumstances.

So, in the midst of this stress, I've tried to keep my mouth shut. Every time I bring up financial concerns, it ends badly. Todd doesn't like to have his delusions shattered by pesky reality. He doesn't want anyone pointing out that he doesn't work full time, and he doesn't make any more than he would with a full-time minimum wage job, because he believes that he works hard and makes more than he could as an employee. He badmouths those he works for if they say anything about his slacking work ethic, never putting together the coincidental fact that such observations are not isolated, but rather have been repeated by countless others over the years. It's called a pattern. Todd denies any pattern that doesn't match his dream world.

I said I tried to keep my mouth shut. Tried. But then we had a little "conversation" today. I asked him what he thought we would do if we lost the house (since our mortgage is much less than what we would have to pay in rent almost anywhere in the country). I reminded him that since we don't have any savings or any pension the house basically is our retirement plan. He said we wouldn't "lose" the house, we'd "sell it and get something for it." He finally admitted that it would necessitate moving in with his dad for free rent. I said something about how we'd have to be able to afford anti-depressants and constant air-conditioning if we were to move back to that humidity. He replied curtly:

"I didn't say 'we."

That hit like a ton of bricks. He replied too quickly for this to be a new thought -- he had been thinking about this in detail. He would run us into financial ruin, sell the house out from underneath us, and then leave me to run home to his daddy... Leave me to what? I wanted to know. I guess he didn't care as long as he was taken care of.

In no time he shifted the discussion away from his work and responsibility to my wedding vows.

"Why didn't you say your wedding vows?" he asked.

I was confused by the question out of the blue.

He repeated it, and I managed to ask for clarification:

"When?"

"At our wedding."

"What do you mean by that?"

"You didn't say 'I do.'"

"That's not what we were supposed to say. We were supposed to say, 'I will.'"

"What ever. You didn't say it."

"What do you mean, I didn't say it. We wouldn't be married if I didn't say it."

"But the preacher skipped over it, didn't he? When you passed out."

"He didn't skip over--"

"Did you do that on purpose?"

"What?"

"Faint."

I was stunned and speechless at that accusation.

"You faked it so you didn't have to say the vows, didn't you?"

With that, I got mad. It's bad enough that I've been married a couple decades to a boy who thinks his cable TV is more important than medical insurance, but then to have him insinuate that I faked a medical issue that I've been plagued by my entire life. My head was reeling.

"I've always thought you did that on purpose," he continued.

"Why the f#@& did you go home with me after the ceremony then? If you thought it was a lie?"

"Well, I didn't think it then."

"You said 'always' -- that you 'always' thought that."

"Well, for a long time."

I'm still in shock. To me this is all a game changer. It explains a lot. His ill thoughts toward me haven't gone unnoticed even if I haven't been able to put my thumb on them. I've always felt that disapproval. And my always does go all the way back to the wedding (and before). I'm ashamed to admit that my self-esteem was so low as to think that feeling was acceptable. He was hot for my body and I mistook it for love. When I brought up how I've struggled knowing that I "ruined his life"--citing how he used to say that back during the summer when he had a truck, a motorcycle, and a camper, and lived at a camp ground was "the last time things were good" (and incidentally, before he met me)--he said, "Why do you always bring that up?" I guess I'm just supposed to forget every thoughtless comment he makes (on multiple occasions, comments that match up perfectly with his behavior) or I'm being unreasonable, but he can take my medical history and re-write it as some sort of game and that's reasonable???

Is this evidence that the gulf is too great to ever be bridged? I think I'm going to faint.