The Chair, But It's Not The Chair

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This morning I cried. I couldn't stop. I had reached the end of my rope. And I fell, to the bottom of the pit. Maybe I will be able to climb out stronger. I hope so. K. didn't know what to do. He never has known. I have told him time and time again. I am so tired of his disrespect. I am so tired of my mother in law disrespecting both of us. I pray to God for guidance to be the most loving mother in law I can be to my "daughters".

She calls and says she has a recliner we can have. This is a woman who has no money worries. She gives nice furniture to her other children all the time. Buys them everything they want. Oh, she also pays for their trips to dentist and doctors so they don't have to go to charity. Buys their medicine too. Can't seem to do enough for them and they make more a month than we do. She has some nice chairs and I wonder which one it is. I have a feeling, you know, my skin kinda crawls a little. When he gets back and I see what chair he has I get sick to my stomach. It is thread bare and the cushioned back is flat from use. It has a hole in the seat and the arms are black with filth. It was one that she had taken from a renter in lieu of rent owed and the chair had been on her back porch since spring. I remember her telling us one day that the dogs had peed on it. It wasn't good enough to put in her own living room but good enough for me. And the idea that K. felt it was good enough for us made me nauseous. I ask him why had he brought that chair home. I ask him what went through his head when he looked at it. I asked him if he had thought about me when he saw what chair she was giving to us. All he could say was we can throw a sheet over it. And I lost all control. I cried so hard it hurt. I told him he can haul that chair right back over their and tell his mom she can kiss my ass and he can kiss it too. I reminded him that we had talked about trying to get good furniture. And we had talked about getting the floor done. I hated it when anyone came over and saw the conditions I live in. It is embarrassing. I get the blame for it. Not him. All he can say is you know I don't make enough money and I am not going to get another job.

It is like I saw myself in that recliner. I saw no changes in the future. I would continue to me stretched out on the floor and walked on. God I don't know how to change things.

I told him I couldn't live like this any more. I have lowered my standard of life too long and as he could tell it is slowly killing me. It is my fault, I allowed it, I accept all responsibility. The idea that his mom thought that chair was good enough for me was horrible. But the idea that my husband feels that I don't deserve better and the chair isn't the first road side trash he has brought home to me, is heart breaking. The furniture I have not very many people would have in their home. I have holes in the ceiling he is not worried about fixing. My floors have sunk in places. And I have let it continue. He says we don't have enough money but he joined two hunting clubs this year. When it comes to him he has the money. When it affects me and my wants and needs it doesn't happen. The only reason there is a computer in the house is because he needed it for work. But he found a broken table we propped up to set the computer on and he brought home a chair someone had set out for the garbage. He acts like it is no big deal and I wonder about it sometimes. I have asked, begged, threatened and he doesn't change. I don't want to move back home with my parents. I have no job skills and could not make it on minimum wage. I feel that he knows there isn't much I can do and as long as I allow myself to be taken for granted it will continue.

I am still here. And I imagine the chair will be sitting in the house tonight. God show me the way.

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I love the Lord, because he hath heard my voice and my supplications. Because he hath inclined his ear unto me, therefore will I call upon him as long as I live. The sorrows of death compassed me, and the pains of hell gat hold upon me: I found trouble and sorrow. Then called I upon the name of the Lord; O Lord, I beseech thee, deliver my soul. Gracious is the Lord, and righteous; yea, our God is merciful. The Lord preserveth the simple; I was brought low, and he helped me. Return unto thy rest, O my soul; for the Lord hath dealt bountifully with thee.
Psalm 116:1-7