I walked out last night. For the first time since this whole thing started I left. I went to the beach and sat on the wet sand and cried for a hour and twenty minutes. It was amazing.
Duane’s was being “dumber than a suitcase full of buttholes” and I couldn’t deal anymore. The conversation started normally and then it just flipped. As the disease progresses he becomes more and more controlling, as he loses more control of his life and his abilities he becomes more controlling over me, my actions and decisions. For the most part it’s doable. But I think at this point he gets joy out of pulling the strings and putting people (me mostly) in bad situations.
I knew his dad was on his way over. So as soon as I heard the car door slam at 8:02pm I left. I didn’t say goodbye I just left. It was so nice. When I came back later his dad, and brother and sister were here; he was never alone and he was taken care off and STILL ignoring me and treating me like crap.
Because he no longer cares about his life he doesn’t care about mine. It’s sad and ungraceful and I couldn’t be more disappointed.
Here’s to a probably very quiet day today!
– xoxo Victoria