H0PE

hope, I hope with all my soul that my husband stays sober. Sobriety has been a long road but today he is in recovery. He is in recovery and doing remarkable. Someone recently told me that I am lucky to be married to an addict in recovery because they are always practicing how to become a better person, they have self awareness. I agree....

hope, there was a time I didn't have any. If anyone reads this post who is in the midst of addiction, know there is hope. My husband is living proof. However, I must always remember we live one day at a time. So today he is sober, today was good.

Thank you

Thank you Bill W. and Dr. Bob.

It is because of you that I have my husband back.

For anyone out there who may stumble across my blog, I want this to give you hope. My husband is a recovered drug addict/alcoholic. He should've been dead from all the things he did in the past. But he's here, laying in bed, annoying me because I want to start the day, but I'm grateful, he's here, he's in recovery and life is kind of good....

DO NOT GO GENTLE INTO THAT GOOD NIGHT

Michael Thomas Esposito

April 30 1969

April 29 1999

IHateYouVeryMuch ~ arguing with an addict

Above is the test message I just received from my husband.

Too bad strangling my husband is not an option...

Oh but wouldn't that be so much easier than trying to make my point to him without arguing.

Not that arguing is so awful. Arguing with an addict, albeit in recovery is useless. There is no winning, no matter how ridiculously wrong he is.

Tactics that I've become way too familiar with:

1. Lying. No matter how obvious, he will try this one. It's old habit by now. If he feels guilty about something, he will do his best to get out of it with a simple lie.

2. I'm overreacting. It doesn't matter how hurt I am by his actions, my reaction is out of proportion.

3. Attack. If defense isn't working he launches into attack mode. The best defense is always a good offense. I used to react to this, it makes me want to weep all the wasted energy I put into defending myself against the ridiculous accusations. I'm positive every codie recognized themselves in this one~

4. How dare I ruin his day, night, week, life...etc. He was having a good one until I bought up my dissapointment in him.

5. I'm crazy. When all else fails this is the one that used to work best to his advantage.

6. Manipulation. He hates me. Well, there was a time I couldn't stand the thought of this, but now I recognize it for what it is.

All I really want out of all this is for me to tell him what he has done that I find hurtful and for him to take ownership of his actions.

Here is a list of what I asked my husband to do today.

Pick up the dog meds at the vet
Bring in the birdcage that is thrown on the side of the house (a real eyesore)
Finish cleaning his closet (he attempted this yesterday but never finished)
Mow the lawn (It hasn't been mowed in weeks)

What he accomplished.....

None of the above.

So I'm hurt and dissapointed. He went to meet his sponsor, went to a meeting, then met with his sponsoree. All good things, however, I need him to take care of his own responsibilities. I take care of mine. A house does not run itself. Simple.

But what I got back was...

1. Lies...the vet couldn't put the meds together unless I called. LIE.

2. I don't do what I'm responsible for. I forgot that I vacuumed, dusted, mopped, cleaned the bathrooms, washed the sheets, made the bed, cleaned the bird cages, cleaned the litter box, and paid the bills...including his credit card debt that he avoids~

3. Why are you doing this to me? I don't get this....it seems to me he does this to himself.

4. I work all week.....this is my absolute favorite. I don't even know how to respond I'm so amazed that this is an explanation anyone would come up with.

5. And finally, IHateYouVeryMuch.

6. I'm sure later I will be told I am crazy~ can't wait for him to get home tonight:) oh Joy, the good times ahead.

I thought this craziness ended with the end of the drug use. For the most part it had, but today it reared it's ugly head. He fucks up, he does his absolute best not to take responsibility.

So for now, IHateHimVeryMuch as well.....

Peace

I haven't posted in a long time.

My life has something new that I am learning to adjust to. Peace.

I feel like I've spent the last 13 years of my life in a constant state of panic. My mind never was quiet. NEVER. I'm amazed at this realization.

From the first moment I whispered the word Cancer, and I did whisper it, I couldn't even bring myself to say it out loud, my life became a whirlwind, never quiet, never peaceful, never still.

From that moment, the moment that I got a telephone call that my husband had a pain in his chest and drove himself to the emergency room, I have not been able to be in quiet. Noise became my comfort.

If it was noisy enough I was not able to go there. Go to the scary place in my head filled with all the fear of what was to come and filled today with all the fear that was. My memories are sometimes very ugly, Cancer is ugly.

Today I can somewhat tolerate quiet, it's getting easier.

My life has become quiet. No drama today, not lately. My memories of my first husband are still very painful, but I torture myself less. My second husband is sober and in recovery and doing amazingly well. Today.

I don't have to save anyone today.

It's quiet. And it's different, very different for a codie, and change don't come easy, but I think I like this.

Do Blondes Have More Fun?

I had an appointment at 10am this morning to go from blonde to brunette. The appointment was cancelled because the colorist is sick but my very demanding friend inisisted she come in anyway to do our hair since we made the appointment a month ago....

So either the colorist will be there at 2 or perhaps I'll remain blonde for at least another day.

I'm not sure which scenerio I would like to play out.

I've been a blonde my entire life. When I was 19 the color started to come from a bottle.

I don't have any idea why I'm doing this except my friend and I have been talking about it forever and we just dialed the phone a month ago and made the appointment.

I think my main reason is that I don't want to look like a typical South Floridian, white hair, dark tan (usually accompanied by many wrinkles, with the focus being taken off by the large diamonds)....low cut blouse with lots of cleavage, lots of sparkle on every article of clothing and a big designer bag...seriously I hope I didn't offend anyone but go visit Town Square Mall in Boca one day if you don't believe me.

My friend laughs when I say this because I'm white as a ghost, a prude with the way I dress, I own one designer bag, but my rock (my engagement ring) isn't too shabby....hubby did well in that department, so I can kindof fit in without being laughed out of Saks.

It's time for a change. Hubby is excited because he get's to sleep with a brunette and not feel like he's cheating on his wife. Men!!

I have had a lot of fun in my life being blonde, but I'm confident my days of brunette ahead aren't going to be that uneventful~ who knows?

It's all about recovery (him)

I know a lot of people may feel angered by this post. Perhaps if you are married to someone in recovery who has put you through a lot of shit during his using you may have some understanding of my current situation.

Life seems to have become all about him. The first year it was all new and it was all consuming for us both. Now I'm tired and I want some normalcy back in my life.

Yes he is an addict and AA does teach him it is "all about his recovery"....well where the hell do I fit in anymore. I want a husband, not someone who is "all about his recovery". I am finding it to be a very selfish existence on his part. And I guess he feels validated because that's what he is being constantly told. His sobriety comes first.

Where the hell do I fit in? It's all about his work and his computer and his meetings. We have one day a week to spend together and we have to do it "around" his meeting...which is at 12 pm....smack in the middle of the day. His selfish addictly behavior also has him wanting to rest after working all week, so mornings are out, and when he gets home from his meeting he needs to sit and eat and read and write on the computer.

He has lost all focus on the rest of our lives. He doesn't seem to give a damn about his house. We would live like trash if it wasn't for me and he doesn't even appreciate it. It's the entitled addictly behavior, everyone do for him....

I am so angry at him. I'm done living the life of married to an addict. I want a somewhat normal life. I want a partner who isn't all about himself.

So it's Sunday morning and he is still sleeping and when he wakes he will want to go on the computer and rest before he leaves at 11:30, only to appear again at 1:30 hungry wondering why there is no food in the house? Tomorrow on his day off (he works Tues-Saturday) he will also only think about himself, not about us...US....does he even remember there is an US?

TO FEEL OR NOT TO FEEL ~ THAT IS THE QUESTION

OK, I was depressed, and stressed...there was a lot going on. Layoffs at work mostly was bothering me, daily life with an addict (even one in recovery) and there were family gatherings and flights to New York....It seemed I wasn't handling it all that great.

Along comes the magic anti-depressant pill!!!! Also in my book the anti-feeling pill, the anti-sex pill, the anti-will power pill...the eat all you possibly can shove in your face pill and then have no energy pill so your life consists of empty smiles and politeness, stress schmess, and a big fat belly that no longer fits into any pants in your wardrobe pill!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Aprroximately 5-10 pounds later....I quit taking the damn anti-depressant. I didn't tell anyone. Thought no one would notice.

So I've been a bit more difficult to work with~scaring my coworker just a tad the other morning. But I have been more fun to go to breakfast and lunch with...making my just a tad obese boss not feel too bad about himself while others are munching their celery sticks we were bonding over the cookies!!

OK, the fit of laughter watching two Woody Allen movies last week felt damn good, haven't laughed that hard since starting the anti-depressant, anti-feeling fucking pill.

On the other hand I hadn't cried so hard in a long while as I did while watching some more old movies, Missing, Prelude to a Kiss and the ending to Annie Hall.

Yesterday I screamed at Mr. Addicted Rantings because he crumpled up all the laundry. Mind you I'm sure all of you who are married would also be a bit enraged at a 40 year old's lack of skill when it comes to the art of folding your wifes clothes instead of balling them up on of all places the middle of the living room in a wrinkled uncaring mess. I screamed and screamed and screamed until I thought I would rupture something in my throat. I could have murdered my husband over laundry.

So Mr. Addicted Rantings now works as an adjunct therapist and speaking with all his coworker therapist types came to the brilliant conclusion it may not be about the laundry.

Heck no, it's about Christmas and death that really was getting to me...........laundry was just symbolic of the lack of control I have, the crumpled up mess in the middle of my life.

So Mr. Addicted Rantings has a cure for all this emotion. The amazing anti-Loving Recovering pill...the pill that turns me into a stepford wife.............happy with crumpled laundry and Christmas and death~

Denial is Better

Hey denial isn't so bad. Reality is what sucks.

So I am choosing to stick my head back in the sand and live life in the reality of my own choosing.

My husband's sponsor, my angel from heaven is perfect in every way. The same goes for his wife. I often say I don't envy anyone...I think this is a gift because I don't waste too much energy wanting what others have but when it comes to my husband's sponsor and his wife I am super envious.

In my version of reality they are perfect. They are my inspiration and strength and I need them to be who I want them to be. So I'm choosing to deny what is right in front of me and go on living my life without any fear because my husband's sponsor who is perfect will keep my husband sober.

I no longer need to be the typical codie who thinks it's all up to her to keep her husband sober, I've been given the gift of the "sponsor".....as long as he is perfect, life goes on the way I like it to go on.

Reality sucks. Reality is my husband's sponsor and his wife are human~not only are they human but they are Mr. addict and Mrs. codependent....this is not who I want them to be. They are supposed to be RECOVERED....addiction is not supposed to be an ongoing disease. My husband and his sponsor are supposed to be CURED in my denial world.

Back to reality world, my husband's sponsor used. He used, she went into denial and off they went into addict, codie world....

He used, he was using when I wrote my most beautiful post about him getting his three year medallion and giving my husband his one year medallion. He was using that day, that day I was sitting in my best state of denial, the one where there is a happy ending to all this addict crap.

He shit all over my fantasy.....

I'm staying put in my denial, my head is in the sand....each time Mr. Addicted Rantings wants to talk about what to do about getting a new sponsor I tell him to leave me out of this. This is not where I choose to go and I am very good, almost amazingly good and not going where I don't want to go in my head.....

We saw the sponsor and his wife for a pre holiday get together. They are wonderful, amazing, beautiful people and I still admire who they are. They didn't let me down, it's not about me....it's about this dreadful disease of addiction.

And the reality folks is that relapses do occur. Denial definitely beats that reality.

It was Christmas 1999

She's an old girl now.

I'm going to tell a story that my husband can no longer hear....it makes him cringe because I've told it to him so many times.

It begins like this and if Mr. Addicted Rantings hears this he walks out of the room....

It was Christmas 1999.

It was my first Christmas alone, I had been back at work for a few months since Michael past and it was in everyone's opinion that I should get a dog to keep me company. A friend at work's husband was a big wig in the precinct that covered my neighborhood so all his cop friends would look out for me. They too would tell me to get a dog, I'd feel a lot safer.

So getting back to my infamous tale. It was Christmas eve 1999 and we had no one around at work so we decided to take a long lunch hour and visit the local animal shelter. I wasn't an animal person back then, I was too concerned with how clean the house was to ever let any four legged possibly muddy, smelly and fur shedding thing into my living quarters, but to only humor my coworker/friends I went along. None of the dogs interested me. I was ready to leave when the girl at the rescue said she had one dog left but she wasn't ready for adoption, she didn't get along well with anyone and was very scared, she was as she said "unadoptable"... They had her separated in the "house". Ok, I figured I'll take a look at this pathetic creature...

It was snowing and out she walked, head down, tail between her legs, the saddest looking site I'd ever seen. I started to cry and said yes I'll take her, she's meant to be mine.

I went back to work and and at 5:00 I went off to the shelter alone to pick her up. I asked what to do with her? I hadn't a clue....they simply said put her in the car and take her home.

She walked into the house and instantly pooped, she looked terrified as if this was going to be the end for her. I told her it was ok and that I was terrified too. We called my deceased husband's best friend to come over and the three of us fell asleep together that night in the living room.

Eventually I learned how to be a dog owner, although I think I put her through a lot when I first got her. She became my everything, I was lonely and sad and she was not the type of dog to handle all my neediness. I am the only dog owner who would have to beg her dog to come up on the bed. I also later decided to quit my job and go back to school which meant that Jasmine and I spent a lot a lot of time together....I think too much for my poor Jas...

Jasmine set her own boundaries with me and I respect her for that. If I cry, and I did do that often, she will lay by my side. She will never let me be sad alone. Other than that she likes her space.

Mr. Addicted Rantings knew how to win my heart and that was to win over Jasmine. He bought a bone with him to our second date. She fell in love and so did I.

Jasmine is now really Mr. Addicted Ranting's dog although I know she loves me. She's been my angel. She's an old girl now just like her mom. I believe she was sent to me from heaven. She was a Christmas Miracle.

Merry F'n Christmas

I'm angry. The pain that I feel is so intense that I have no good feelings inside me now. I've seen life at it's ugliest and most painful and that is what is filling up my soul this Christmas.

Michael died 9 years ago and I know there are so many out there who are not sympathetic and who think in their cold hearts that I should be past this now.

To those I say only this...I envy you that you are incapable of feeling this pain. Grief knows no time, it doesn't know it didn't happen yesterday, it comes and goes and sometimes it comes on so strong it tears into your soul.

I remember sitting at a widows support group and we were all newly widowed and looked like the walking dead. A woman walks in and she wasn't familiar. She cried and cried and then she told us that her husband past away years ago. I remember thinking shit, it's never going to end.

Christmas was his favorite holiday. We would put aside most of our money and we would wrap so many presents and fill up the Jeep and go to his mom's house and then later off to his aunt's house. Little children would be all dressed in red and there would be a Santa and lots of food, it was straight out of a Christmas card. Christmas morning we would wake up early like we were little kids and unwrap all our presents.

I remember decorating the tree and trying so hard to be normal, we had the fireplace lit and we had on our Santa hats but he had very little hair left, and he was so thin and gaunt, but we tried to smile anyway and his mother kept taking pictures and all I could think of is I don't want this memory, stop taking the damn pictures!!!

Later that night he couldn't breathe and I had to call the ambulance which I had done so many times but this time this memory stands out... the cops got there first and they couldn't even look at him, they waited in the dining room not looking at him... until the ambulance arrived. That was his last Christmas.

I am no longer newly widowed, I am remarried. I am not expected to be feeling this way. I don't have the sympathy that was there for me the years following his death. I don't get the phone calls and no one is there to take care of me to get me through this hard time.

It was years ago and life is supposed to go on. So I am alone, no calls from his family or friends to make sure I'm ok.

My family and friends have no idea what goes on inside me....they have no idea....and if I were to tell them they wouldn't understand.

It's been 9 years they would say.

PMS ~Pardon My Suffering

As I am getting older my lady time (as Ray calls it on Everybody Loves Raymond) seems to be getting more and more painful....

Yet I am proud to say that during this very difficult week I have managed to smile my way through a ton of holiday parties.

In the midst of my craziness I found myself driving home from work the other day cursing my husband non stop because I felt I was being forced to attend his boss' Christmas party~ I hated him so much I called him every name and fantasized about hurting him in many ways only to have him come home, ignore my mood and be his most lovable adorable self.

I am grateful this week for the babydoll top being in style, for my jeans with stretch in them, for my one pair of comfy black pants that no one noticed I wore almost daily to work and most of all, I am grateful for my very understanding wonderful loving husband for learning how to live with me in spite of my mood swings and my big ugly comfy sweats!!!

Addicted Rantings - 30 reasons why I love you

1. You are very handsome

2. You make me laugh

3. You are the least smelliest man I ever met

4. You are the least hairiest man I ever met

5. You love animals

6. You pretend you don't notice when I put on weight

7. You hate George Bush and you love Obama

8. You are kind to everyone

9. You have a very big heart, too big sometimes

10. You love my mom

11. You live with 14 pets (who else would live with me?)

12. You let me have pictures of Michael in the house

13. You would visit Michael's grave with me and genuinely feel sad

14. You tell me I'm pretty all the time

15. Everyone loves you, you are very lovable

16. I can depend on you if something really bad happens (however if something small happens, you fall apart~)

17. You have a very sexy voice

18. You are very sexy

19. You don't get angry when I give you wrong directions

20. You know every Seinfeld episode by heart and you understand all my Seinfeld references

21. You say you're shy but you are a ham and it's very cute

22. You want me to say you are good in bed (I know you do) so you're absolutely the most amazing sex I've ever had.

23. You would've wanted me to put #22 as #1

24. You can cry and be friends with gay men because you have no hangups regarding your manhood.

25. You are smarter than you know

26. You have a gift of being compassionate and people know you are genuine in your caring

27. You catch bugs and put them outside instead of killing them

28. You won my heart over by bringing my dog a bone on our second date

29. You are a homebody like me

30. You make me feel loved

Life

Today I heard a lot of very sad stories. I don't know if this is an AA saying or what but I try to think about this when I'm feeling down...if everyone threw their problems into a pile I would probably choose to take back my own.

My friends are having some hard times and my heart goes out to them. I've been given a good dose of perspective. Sure I'm terrified of losing my job but today I am employed. My husband is an addict but he's in recovery. My parents are alive and although they have their ailments, nothing is life threatening. Money is tight, but we have a roof over our heads.

I have a lot to be grateful for, although I wish it didn't take hearing my dear friends problems to make me less self absorbed.

I guess that is a character defect that I will have to work on.

There was a time in my life that I was very aware that a future as I knew it wouldn't exist. We lived without that sense of tomorrow...we lived with the word "terminal"...it's a strange way to live, very hurtful yet it forces you to stay in the present and take from life all the joy you possibly can.

Life is hard, no doubt...hard for all of us. Hard especially for some of my friends...although they are my inspiration because for the most part they seem to hold it together a hell of a lot better than I do.

Job Anxiety

I'm having a hard time at work right now. I went to the doctor this afternoon because last night I had an anxiety attack, that or just deep depression mixed with great dread.

The doctor was so understanding that it almost added to my anxiety. It seems I'm not the only one running to him these days with the same story. Layoffs at work seem to be sending many of us to see our doctors these days.

I'm still hanging on to my job but its becoming harder to hide my desparation. We've all become about becoming indespensible. Quite alot of pressure Monday through Friday.

I miss the days of bitching about not having a long enough lunch hour or not having a big enough cubicle. Now I'm grateful they let me in the doors each morning.

I know this is not something the wife of an addict should say but sometimes there is better living through chemistry. Yoga, meditation, it's not going to get me through this...sorry, I can't practice what I preach. All I can think right now is let the medication kick in~

Shake ur Booty

Something got into me this morning. I usually put on the news on the way to work but this morning was different. I stopped at Dunkin Donuts for some coffee and a group of men actually flirted with me as I walked in.

Not to toot my own horn but when I was younger this used to happen all the time. I am tall (that hasn't changed) I was skinny (that unfortunately has changed) and I'm blonde.

Since my 40th birthday I've become almost invisible to men. Not that I mind this too much, their stupid comments I've learned to live without. However, I've been feeling down about myself lately. I had money saved up for my 45th birthday for a facelift, I'm a firm believer (literally) in the power of plastic surgery. However, the money is long gone (I am married to an addict) and the lines on my face aren't going anywhere.

So this morning I got a second glance from a group of stupid old men (I live in Florida) and it made my day. I got back in the car, turned on the stereo and danced (thank g-d for the tinted windows) to "shake your booty"~

Feeling Groovy

My recovering addict husband is doing well.

I mean really well. I'm sure he still struggles daily with his addiciton but for the most part he seems to be ~dare I say~HAPPY??

Never in my wildest imagination would I have ever thought things would turn out so good.

Life is far from perfect, we have our issues just like everyone else. Financially we are living very tight on a budget, my job is not very secure with layoffs occuring almost weekly now, I'm 10 pounds overweight (but still a size 4 on a good day, although the size 4 is a bit tight, ok I'm squeezing myself into the size 4 and I am in pain all day but I'm not going up to a size 6 just yet), my cat still has horrible digestive problems causing him to leak poop out of his butt at random times (mostly while he sitting on my lap)....but all in all things are good.

Hubby is employed for almost a year straight. I think that is a record~ and he's happy at work. I don't have to hear how he's out to get this one or that one because he doesn't like him or her...my panic attacks are almost nonexistent throughout my workday now.

Hubby is still very neurotic but at least he recognizes it and doesn't think his neurosis are justified. The woman eating popcorn at the movie theatre didn't ruin my Sunday, nor did the fact that strange people were food shopping at Walmart.

His clothes seem to make it into the laundry these days as opposed to accumulating all over the couch and floor. And if I do clean out his closet as I did last weekend he didn't complain it wasn't up to his standards.

He is living on a budget and not blaming me that there is no money for him to buy the clothes he thinks he should have or the dinner out he feels entitled to or the designer crap that he never needed nor could afford in the past. Doesn't everyone who drives a 10 year old truck need a Mont Blanc pen?? Have that argument if you want to lose your mind!

I think I believe 99% of what comes out of his mouth....this time last year I would say it was closer to 10% on a good day.

Living with an addict has been crazy and whats crazier is how many times I've been called crazy.
He still seems to manage to call me crazy...I don't know what's up with this other than only a crazy person stays married to an addict even if it does turn out ok.

But today...life I love you, all is groovy!

A Beautiful Cemetery on an Old Hill

After Great Pain, A Formal Feeling Comes

After great pain, a formal feeling comes
The Nerves sit ceremonious, like Toombs
The stiff Heart questions was it He, that bore,
And Yesterday, or Centuries before?

The Feet, mechanical, go round
Of Ground, or Air, or Ought
A Wooden wayRegardless grown,
A Quartz contentment, like a stone

This is the Hour of Lead
Remembered, if outlived,
As Freezing persons recollect the Snow
First Chill
then Stupor
then the letting go

Emily Dickinson

This is the cemetery where Michael is buried. It's a beautiful cemetery on an old hill in the town where we lived. I don't know why but there are times in my life that I go right back into my grief as though it happened only yesterday.

I found this poem yesterday in a box where I keep a few of Michael's things. He did an essay on this poem when he was in college. It blows my mind that he wrote a paper on suffering and grief.

Life to me seems not to happen at all in a linear fashion but more like an overlapping of time. One day an 18 year old is writing about a poem about grief that so many years later his widow pulls from a box while she is crying.

I believe it's a message. I know his soul goes on. I know he is with me and I know he needed me to read this.

up in smoke

Last year at this time my husband was in rehab. I was home and a mess. Everything was going wrong, home alone to take care of everything and I had taken a transfer and ended up working for an insane woman.

But each night I would come home from work and grab the phone and head outside for a night of talking, crying and SMOKING.

Living in Florida it was especially comforting to sit outside on a beautiful November evening and light up a cigarette. I could sit outside in my backyard overlooking the lake and puff away for hours.

I have spent so many hours in my lifetime exactly the same way. When my first husband was sick I'd sit outside on the porch and smoke, when this husband left me in NY on my own I'd sit outside with my friend at night and smoke.

In a very sick way I guess I miss this habit. Not so much the smoking. I have never become addicted to anything and believe me I've abused enough substances in my lifetime and never had a craving. But the misery, the drama, the sadness that went along with the smoking I miss! I think I've gone crazy but it all became such a big part of my identity, this is how I comforted myself and I miss that nurturing part of me.

I know there are many more healthy ways to nuture myself, and I know that not having misery and drama in my life is supposed to be a good thing. But in truth I want to run to the nearest gas station and buy me a pack of smokes.

Drama-less

I get a drama-free day!

My husband is at work.

The dogs are laying on the patio sunning themselves, the cats are napping and the birds are on their swings. We are all peaceful.

My husband is constant drama. It upsets me because he doesn't see how lucky he is. Even when everything is going his way he still is miserable.

It really upsets me because I don't understand how someone who is blessed to have gotten a promotion at work while others are getting laid off would have the nerve to complain, but he wouldn't be him if he didn't find something to feel bad about. What would he do with his time if he couldn't feel bad about himself?

I look at what we do have and feel fortunate. It upsets him when I tell him that he should appreciate his blessings because there are those who are ill, or unemployed or are losing their homes. He feels that his feelings are valid even if I don't think they compare to those that I think are truly suffering. We see things very differently this way.

I don't think he gets the whole gratitude thing, he thinks he does, but I have to say he doesn't.

I can't change him. I just have to learn how to not want to smother him to death when he starts with his wo-is-me attitude.

2 more hours he will be home from work and the misery begins!!! Oh joy~