Cabin Fever

The weather's finally breaking a bit today. I actually chained up and went into work around 11:00. Came home around 5. Broke one chain on the way home. I'm not sure how bad - hope not enough to keep me home again tomorow. I hate to say it but it felt good to get out of the house and face the world. I know Curt would be happy as a clam homebound 24/7 so long as he had groceries and supplies. Not me. I wish I could say we had a wonderful little bonding experience being stuck together for the majority of the last week but I can't. I just couldn't help feeling antsy and restless, which didn't exactly make me a joy to cohabitate with. It was probably like being stuck with a surly child. No cable, no Netflix movie, no books... if it weren't for the computer I'd've gone nuts. I think he got frustrated with my reluctance to pass the time instead having deep philosophical conversations with him. At one point he specifically asked me to tell him about something "controversial" we could talk about. But ya' know, it just felt like I was being baited - kind of like he was bored and thought getting me all riled up on my soapbox like a performing monkey might be rather amusing; and I wasn't in the mood to beat my head against the wall explaining my seemingly annoying political/ historical beliefs to him. Besides which I'm kind of going through an apathetic phase myself right now where I'm more of the same "fuck 'em all - let's just nuke the bastards" frame of mind that he usually espouses and therefore was not in the mood to disgust myself talking about shit that's probably never going to change.

So we ended up talking about death instead. What we want in our wills, how we want to be buried/ burned, where to scatter the ashes. Pleasant, huh? So for some odd reason I'm feeling a little depressed tonight. There are other factors. You'd think most young newly-weds who were supposedly trying to have a baby would jump at the chance of getting some enforced alone time and never leave the bedroom. Nope. Once again I'm getting shot down every time I initiate sex and it's starting to get a little old. Curt seems to be having this irrational fear that all I want sex for is for his little swimmers. Sure, that's *one* of the reasons I'm asking but ya' know - a girl just wants an orgasm periodically, too. And some snuggle/intimate lovey-dovey time with her honey. What's so wrong with killing two birds with one stone??

We have very different ways of de-stressing and unwinding. I've got to shut down my brain with mindless entertainment. T.V., books, computer games. He hates these things. He enjoys sitting in front of a fire listening to music. Or talking. It would be OK if he would just let me do my thing while he did his... but he can't. If I partake of my favorite veg-out activities he feels like I'm abandoning him. He then complains that I'm ignoring, or worse yet - annoying him. So then I've got to give up my de-stressing to soothe him - which makes me feel resentful because *my* needs aren't being met. Then if he deigns to allow me to watch T.V., it can't be anything that *really* annoys him, no matter how much *I* want to see the stupid show. So this entire week I've had no outlet to relieve *my* stress, not even sex.

So I'm laying in bed tonight not being able to shut off my brain and decide to get up & take a Benadryl to help me sleep. I try to sneak out of bed, gently close the door so as not to disturb him, but them I'm fucking *forced* to wake him up by opening the hall closet door (outside the bedroom) because he got annoyed at my keeping all my meds in the fucking kitchen last week and in a pique threw them all in the closet. I hear a grumpy-ass "what the hell are you doing?" and you could probably see the steam coming out of my ears. He won't even remember in the morning.

It's like when we have spare time, we both have very different ideas about the best way to spend it - and that's where all the tension comes in. Then, it feels like I get punished for there being tension. I am denied sex. He makes sport of my emotions. I've been feeling like a caged animal this week and it doesn't help when he starts verbally "poking" me to get a fucking reaction. It's almost worse that I know he's not really serious when he does it, because it just seems to prove that *my* peace of mind is so trivial to him that he has no qualms using it as a plaything when he gets bored.

I'm probably blowing this way out of proportion but I'm needing to vent to try to figure out the problem. I don't know exactly what's wrong, but something is. When you get to the point where your initial reaction to anything the other person says is "Bite me!" something 's not quite right. He's an incredibly sweet, considerate and sensitive man in so many ways. So very thoughtful about all kinds of ways he can make me happy. Getting me a temporary hose and adaptor to fit on the sink so I can have a hot bath (our tub faucet is broken). Ordering me acne-treatment products from an infomercial. Sending sweet, cute little emails to me all day. It's just this one little area that worries me. Hopefully we'll find a way to compromise in the future without pissing one another off too much in the process.