I Hate Me

I am bringing self-loathing to an art form. I am even getting sick of my own whiny bullshit. My emotional outbursts are coming more often. Lately, I cry at least once a day. A couple things did it tonight:

Every once in awhile, he smokes pot. And I really HATE it when he does. He becomes so unresponsive, and just kind of lays there watching crappy movies. It is so lonely for me. Tonight he wanted to smoke. I told that I did not want to hang out if he did. He didn't for awhile, but he is now. Of course, he doesn't have to hang out with me all the time. He can do what he wants. That alone would not upset me. It was more than that.

Earlier, he got upset for no real reason. He just started acting mopey and sad out of nowhere. I asked him what was wrong, and he said that it was nothing. He said, "Don't worry, it has nothing to do with you or us." He eventually told me that it is just stress about classes. You would think that would be good news for me. Instead, it made me feel like crap. It is ALWAYS about his classes. That is the only thing that brings any type of anxiety out of him. Not US, not the year ending--his classes, his prospects for getting into PhD programs... I am stressed about school too, but my feelings about academics cannot compete with how much I think about him, and us, and the year ending. It is just the reverse for him. I can't compete with his academic worries. I am an afterthought.

And that is the thing about the pot too. He wants to escape from the world for a little while. He would rather be stoned and watching mindless shit than spending quiet time with me to get away from things. He shuts me out.

And the sex thing is getting ridiculous. He is so worried about his classes that he is never in the mood. It wouldn't bother me so much if it didn't make me feel like I am coming in second to his "life goals" again, and again, and again. Why doesn't he want me the way that he wants good grades, a PhD, a good job? I like that he wants all of those things. I respect that. But it seems like there is no room for me at all.

I just take up space in his life. I am just a temporary space-filler. His life is about his classes and his eventual career. I am just someone in the background.