I Want To Share With You The Many Ways My Husband Irritates Me
Proof That Marriage Makes Us All Crazy!... I have compiled a list of the many ways in which marriage makes a person completely insane. Inspired by The Neurotic's Notebooks, by Mignon McLaughlin. Originally written to explain a neurotic person’s way of thinking, now altered to fit my theory that marriage will drive anyone to be completely neurotic. I began this piece wanting to explain how I thought my husband was crazy, till I noticed that I am also guilty of this irrational way of thinking… My reasoning behind this piece: To let all you neurotic wives know that you are not alone.
We don’t know how to cope with our emotional bills; some we keep paying over and over, others we never pay at all.
Neither of us find it difficult to be both opinionated and indecisive, both at the same time.
We don’t know that can't do what we can't do; but we think that our husbands can’t do what they can.
We are afraid to win, and afraid to lose; we hate a draw and can't stop competing.
Others settle for small rewards; while we must always go for broke.
Subconsciously, we longs to touch bottom, so at least we won't have that to worry about anymore, but when our husbands reach the bottom, they keep falling.
We circle ceaselessly above a fogged-in airport.
We think of ourselves as both Hamlet and Claudius, in a world that belongs to Polonius.
We feel as if we are always half-drowning in anxiety, and always being half-rescued.
There are three iron links in our shared chain we call our marriage: they are unloving, we are unlovable, and both of us are unloved.
Your husband wants you to love him twice as much, because he is going to cut it in half anyway.
We feel as though trapped in a gas-filled room where at any moment someone, will strike a match.
We always feel as though they were going way up or way down, which is odd in people going sideways.
We feel our husband usually obeys his own Golden Rule: Hate thy neighbor as thyself.
Trying to change him is like shooting fish in a barrel, and always missing them.
We can go from the bottom to the top, and back again, without ever once touching the middle.
Husbands are sure that no one understands them, and they wouldn't have it any other way.
Our husband always wishes people would leave him alone - until they do. We wish he would make himself more available to us – till he does.
Husbands are always looking for something new to over-indulge in, we are always looking for something to over-react to.
We believe that life has meaning, but that ours doesn’t have any at all.
We lie awake at night, feeling completely alone and unloved, but we seldom think of dropping a line to anyone who does love us.
We think of the past with resentment, and the future with dread; the present just doesn't exist.
The real is very real to us, the unreal even more so.
We have perfect vision in one eye, but we cannot remember which.
We run ragged, even sitting still.
Our mountain and molehill are equivalent in size.
Our marriage is no worse than a bad cold; you ache all over, and it's made you a mess, but you won't die from it.
We don’t know how to cope with our emotional bills; some we keep paying over and over, others we never pay at all.
Neither of us find it difficult to be both opinionated and indecisive, both at the same time.
We don’t know that can't do what we can't do; but we think that our husbands can’t do what they can.
We are afraid to win, and afraid to lose; we hate a draw and can't stop competing.
Others settle for small rewards; while we must always go for broke.
Subconsciously, we longs to touch bottom, so at least we won't have that to worry about anymore, but when our husbands reach the bottom, they keep falling.
We circle ceaselessly above a fogged-in airport.
We think of ourselves as both Hamlet and Claudius, in a world that belongs to Polonius.
We feel as if we are always half-drowning in anxiety, and always being half-rescued.
There are three iron links in our shared chain we call our marriage: they are unloving, we are unlovable, and both of us are unloved.
Your husband wants you to love him twice as much, because he is going to cut it in half anyway.
We feel as though trapped in a gas-filled room where at any moment someone, will strike a match.
We always feel as though they were going way up or way down, which is odd in people going sideways.
We feel our husband usually obeys his own Golden Rule: Hate thy neighbor as thyself.
Trying to change him is like shooting fish in a barrel, and always missing them.
We can go from the bottom to the top, and back again, without ever once touching the middle.
Husbands are sure that no one understands them, and they wouldn't have it any other way.
Our husband always wishes people would leave him alone - until they do. We wish he would make himself more available to us – till he does.
Husbands are always looking for something new to over-indulge in, we are always looking for something to over-react to.
We believe that life has meaning, but that ours doesn’t have any at all.
We lie awake at night, feeling completely alone and unloved, but we seldom think of dropping a line to anyone who does love us.
We think of the past with resentment, and the future with dread; the present just doesn't exist.
The real is very real to us, the unreal even more so.
We have perfect vision in one eye, but we cannot remember which.
We run ragged, even sitting still.
Our mountain and molehill are equivalent in size.
Our marriage is no worse than a bad cold; you ache all over, and it's made you a mess, but you won't die from it.
46-50, F
