Remembering things he's said to me

Hi journal. The past few weeks have been "normal", as far as "normal" is for us. He came home a few days ago and blew up at me for having the door cracked open. I really can't understand why he overreacts to benign things. It really does throw me off and confuse me. I'll be having a great day and he will explode over the tiniest thing and ruin it. Sometimes I think he does it on purpose, other times I think he may be mentally ill. Normal people don't act like this.

He came home and saw the door open. He started cursing at me and threw his things on the floor, threatening to divorce me and kidnap our son, then rushed into the bathroom and slammed the door. He didn't speak to me the rest of the night. See he hates the door being open for some reason. He refuses to give me a reason other than "I don't like it". We do have a lockable security screen, but he doesn't care. He also will not allow me to open the blinds or curtains, or turn on the lights, and that leaves the house permanently dark.

I HATE feeling like I live in a dank cave. That's what our apartment is. A smelly, musty, dark cave. The air in our bedroom is ten times more humid inside than outside because he never lets it air out, and it smells like a dirty locker room. 

I grew up in a household where the front and back doors were always cracked open to let the breeze through. The blinds were always drawn up in the daytime and the shade curtains were open to let the light in. It was never dark or stale in my house. The openness creates a great atmosphere, in my opinion, that welcomes visitors and invites people to enter and exit freely. I like this welcoming atmosphere and it makes the home feel warm to me. I love letting the breeze go through the apartment and smelling the fresh air.

When I crack my door open, my neighbors in the adjacent apartments will stop and talk to me and visit with my baby, play with him, and chat a while. This is the way I grew up and this is how I lived until I married. But now, I live in a dark enclosed cavern and I'm told never to go outside, never to talk to neighbors, never to open the blinds or to turn on the lights because it wastes electricity.

I tell hubby that I hate living this way and it's driving me insane, he says he doesn't care. It's "His house" and he "makes the rules". So any time he "catches" me with the door open even a little, he flies into a rage and calls me the worst names imaginable and threatens to divorce me and take my son if I don't start obeying him.

That is just one gripe I have with the weird rules he imposes. Today I had a horrific realization.

Today I am watching a documentary on Ed Graf, a man who murdered his two stepsons for the insurance money. As I was watching and listening to people quoting him, a lot of the things they said sounded just like things my husband has said to me.

Like, "You'll never take my son" right before he murdered his wife's older children. Then an interview after his arrest where he said he regretted not killing her instead of her boys.

My husband says things like this to me every once in a while, usually when he's angry. He has even said "I will kill you if you try to take him". I never even threatened to "take" our son; he just told me that out of the blue after one of his divorce threats. He acted like he was joking, but now I feel like he wasn't. Who jokes about murder?

He's also told me a few times that he wants to get life insurance on me so my life won't be a total waste. I'm not sure if that's a veiled threat or not.

He has told me he will kill me while putting his hands around my throat. He has told me he will take our baby and leave the country and never let me see him again. He has told me he will lie about child abuse to get me arrested and have our son taken away. All these things he says while he is angry at me over small things (what I consider to be really small things that aren't worth getting angry over).

He overreacts to so many things that I really can't keep track of them all. 

It really, really annoys me. I hate feeling like I have to walk on eggshells just to keep him from exploding. In the past two weeks he has exploded at me for: leaving the house (baby had doc appt), me talking to the neighbors (jealousy), me not vacuuming (it's broken and he won't pay to fix it),  his boss yelling at him for something, him being sick (not my fault?), the printer not working (also not my fault), son's toys on the floor (he's a baby), me getting a phone call (jealousy), me talking to my cousin to ask about my sick aunt (also jealousy), our son crying (again, he's a BABY), his bath towel being wet (after he showered and forgot), having dishes in the sink (his own dirty dishes), me opening the window, me drinking a diet pepsi (he's banned me from soda), me playing a mobile game (thought I was chatting to men), and of course having the door cracked open for air.

And his selfishness drives me insane. Like his stinginess with food. He bought a 36 pack of diet soda and started screaming at me for drinking one. Apparently, they are all for him. He had an entire family-size box of rice a roni, two hamburgers and a mini celeste pizza for dinner - then told me i'm a greedy fat pig because I ate a whole mini pizza for dinner. That's all I had. I only eat once a day, but he still complains that I eat "all his food". He hates sharing food with me and our son. He told me I "feed the baby too much" and it's "getting too expensive to buy formula", even though our boy is underweight and he should be eating more, not less.

There's more, (there's always more), but I guess that's enough ranting for one post. I just needed to vent.

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