My husband called me a drama queen, again, and tried to explain that I was only bored and needed to find a hobby. In reality, my husband caused the drama. He couldn’t handle being questioned or doubted. So when I needed to talk to him about something, I had to wait for the right time. I guess I wasn’t very good at waiting for the right time (if there were to ever be one).
This journal entry is me trying to convince myself that the drama is my fault.
He says I’m bored. He says I make excitement for myself by creating conflict, living with it in secret, and then revealing it in my own time – when I can’t handle the stress alone anymore. Maybe I am a drama queen.
The excitement I made was interrupting Will’s intentional withdrawal, his silence. He was punishing me for something by ignoring me. I tried to reach out to him and caught a mouthful of foul rage for daring to intrude on his “lesson.”
Nothing I can ever do will be “good enough.” Why is that?
Good question. Too bad I didn’t try to answer it. Nothing I do will ever be good enough for Will because he doesn’t want me to succeed on my own. He wants to control my every move, and to him, a woman is not more successful than her man.