Friday, January 7th, 2011.

Friday. Spend a lot of time tending to the kid, as V was alledgedly fed up and surrering from a sore back. So that’s time taken away from working with the firm, our livelyhood. If I didn’t have Søren working downstairs I’d be fucked. ‘Tis the problem with working from home, she doesn’t deem it so and for her it’s alright to disrupt the work because it’s only for a short while – but the short whiles turn longer than expected, and suddenly it’s more than half the day spent to her devices. She experienced a rough week, complains of being tired to death – yet still the moments to herself, such as his 3-hour nap pre-noon, are spent in front of the tv or laptop internet-connection, not resting. Or maybe that’s just her way of resting. Still think she should get some sleep; if truly she doesn’t sleep at night, why not get all that she can when there’s an opportunity? In the evening tried to get the kid to fall asleep on his own, seems like a terrific idea but he’s not buying into it. Soon he’ll surrender, of course, but it may take some three weeks. Nothing to do but wait it out, play rough. Can’t ask of any kid to enjoy being removed from their hitherto enjoyed priviledges, and so this one is no exception. It’s a necessary move, though, it’s about high time he learned this and with V flowing over with spite there’s no time to waste. Tomorow Saturday will work on his room, getting it ready for that very same purpose. Always the same topic with kids, isn’t it, sleep. She truly got me good, there; “They do nothing but sleep all day”. Don’t think I’ll forgive her of that one.

She presented me with a plan to further her – or, ‘finance’, rather – career, or whatever happened to it. A lot of goals but little direction. Would love to buy into those ideas, as they’re likely to cost me money – but it’s repetitions of a pattern I’ve seen before. The extention to her pedagogue-education, for which I paid 25 thousand crowns and spent a lot of time taking care of Kirstine so she could attent, the art school initiations, nothing has ever come of it, in light of which I would’ve liked to seen that money at my disposal at the present. I truly have paid her way for a very long time, now. And she’s taking no prisoners, either: I summed up our contributions to the Red Cross, to whom at her doing we pay a little less than five thousand crowns a year to sponser two children in Africa (and that’s not including the gifts of money and items she sends). Asked of her if we would lean back a bit on that, but she gets upset that to save on our finances we might hurt those two poor little kids. As if we’re the only ones on whom their lives depend, and also missing the point, that I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t think those five thousand weren’t a toll on my fiscal abilities at this time. But she sees only what her emotions grant, not allowing for a motive of reason in light of the fact that my income is our only income, and has been so for years. Her wants remain significantly greater than her – mine, i.e. – means provide.

I’m strained from this marriage, which holds few joys. The intimacy is gone. With every outburst of emotions and anger, and they have been too numerous to count beyond the years, I have invested in her to the extend of my abilities at the time, at the expense of what love there once was. I wonder if the roles had been reversed, would she have upheld the same level of support as have? Would she have nurtured me for years, past multiple crisis of mother-daughter dependency, of a brother lost, of not knowing which direction to take, of a birth depression, of financial difficulties? Would she have repaid my debt to the banks, or the student loan, pay for my therapy- or alternative medicine sessions, or provided me with the opportunity to live at her expense and thus write a novel and generally immerse myself in explorations of my choice? My guess is no, she would not have done this. She appears so desperate to me. The “whatever you do, don’t ever leave me”, the unwillingness to take on part-time unskilled labor because she doesn’t wish to wear herself down (no great chance of that) and because she has an education to show, yet not to utilize. The deterioration of her body, of course all excused by having born children – but why, then, constantly fret about wanting to loose weight? I’m certainly not the culprit here, I’ve heard that tune past the last many years and have gotten used to it, and always remained too clever to engage her on that topic. Not, mind you, that I would engage in any other topic, as out of experience that’s a dangerous path to thread. She cannot hold her part of a debate without it boiling over, as if every argument countering her concorde with herself is a slap in the face. I have to remind her it’s only a debate, that no-one is trying to stuff anything down her throat. I remember the political discussion with my sister and her boyfriend, how it always ended up embarrassing and they opted to leave early because she would get so upset she would drive them away, though never until extending the coup-de-grace of “that’s just my opinion”, delievered in a sulky tone. I suspect most of all the love vaned on account of her grim outlooks on almost anything – the “nothing-will-ever-go-right-in-my-life”. What have I been doing all my time with her but support her, and try to make things work for her, but despite all this effort I have never been able to provide her with a basic happiness which would lend her the positive frame of mind. Few have been these occasions, and far between.

The worst part is probably this: I don’t feel a thing, writing this. There is no sting of remorse, perhaps I’m but slight irritated at the waste of time and energy. But tears are certainly not present. Regret, I guess so. That speaks volumes, doesn’t it not.

Can’t say where this will go. I know only this as fact, that whatever happens I will always have two great kids to turn to with pride and confidence that I hitherto have done my best in my role as father, and plan to do in the years ahead.

 

 

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