Grapes of wrath

Grapes of wrath
And what I am feeling now is the total opposite of joy. I am standing at the train station at 06:20, I got up early because I could not sleep and I was highly anxious about the upcoming working week.
I should calmly remind myself that I have just spent the Sunday afternoon with my sister, her husband, their new baby and my mother. It was a very pleasant afternoon and for that I am very greatful.
The inevitable questions about when I would be having my own baby cropped up for the whole of my visit. I managed to actually say nothing – because, what was there to say – and not burst into tears or outrage at the comments.
Driving back home with my mother she brought up the subject again. This time telling me that my time for children was limited and that my husband could father children anytime he wanted. This of course sent me spiralling into a deep dark mood, which I had to control because I was driving at 70 mph but from which I have not emerged from yet. It was a conversation killer which meant that for the 3 hours that it took to negotiate the heavy Sunday evening traffic there were very few words exchanged between my mother and me. I felt and I feel sad about this.
I got home and as usual he was on the computer, looking at cars. He was a little upset about the fact that I had eaten the remainder of the grapes in the fridge. I explained that I took them for the car journey but he seemed not to think this was a valid reason for polishing off these beauties (and yes they were delicious) so I grudgingly apologised. I felt bad because he just seemed to want to criticise but did not find the time to thank me for the cleaning up of the kitchen that I had done the day before (yes, I am still going on about that!) and yes my underlying anger and rage at him continues to bubble under the surface.
We have a brief conversation about my weight. I have reached my target weight (60kg from 64.6kg and I am 161.5cm tall). This has been through sheer discipline and determination. After some pretty horrible comments from him, I changed my diet, exercise, sleep and work regime. In the grand scheme of things this is of course a good thing. I guess I am healthier and I eat more nutritious food and I am very careful about what I eat and when I eat. However it does mean that I rarely eat evening meals with him. He always eats and cooks late. It does mean that many evenings and weekends I am out running or walking to get my 30 minutes exercise per day. It also means I am tucked up in bed earlier, usually by 10:30, 11:00. He on the other hand will be on the computer until midnight or later and then crawl into bed waking me up with just the act of moving the covers.
Anyway I digress, having told him about  my goal achievement, he tells me I should aim for further weight loss. 58kg, I am confused. I tell him that I am happy with my current weight, my body is as healthy and as toned as it has ever been (and this is, after his horrible comments, an intense dislike of my body). But he says I could look better. I say nothing but I am left with a deep sense of sadness.
He then goes on to tell me about about his discovery about biofuel or some sort of alternative diesel product. Apparently you can buy it from some limited suppliers or make it yourself. It’s apparently cheaper but does mean that we would have to buy a car with a diesel engine (which I am pretty certain he was against last week) which would probably be a little more expensive. And he says all this without blinking, as thought we never had any of the conversations that we had last week. He asked me what I thought – I decided to bite my tongue – and say it was an interesting idea. And I left it at that. I did not have the energy for another arguement. Also, even if all of his diesel biofuel buisness makes sense, he has neglected to focus on his career plans, which is one of the main reasons I am reluctant to go along with this ‘thing’.
So now I am walking through a fog of sadness. I feel very alone in this situation that I feel that I have created myself. I do not feel that I can talk to anybody about it because I somehow feel that I should protect him and not let him appear like the ‘….’ that I think he is behaving as. Talking to him is clearly getting me nowhere, I feel unloved, uncared for, hopeless and helpless.
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