This is more of a rant, so excuse the unflattering pity party. (Unless you’d like to join me!)
Is physical labor really harder than mental labor? My fiance works at a cafeteria in a dorm at a university campus. He works eight hours a day, forty hours a week. He does a lot of vigorous cleaning under pressure (there are a lot of students to clean up after, and I guess dishes have to be washed and stuff like instantly after being used).
He is always extremely stressed from his job. I will whine after a ten hour day of studying from the same book, and ask for back rubs or company or study help. He gets all pissy about it, and he actually will get mad at me. When he does rub my back, he is angry and unhappy and I feel extremely guilty. I don’t think that it is unreasonable to ask for a back rub every night, especially when I have arthritis and am very stressed myself. I always ask if he wants a rub, and he says no. He doesn’t like that type of thing.
I tell him I’m stressed about school, money, various people, my mother, money, money, money… but apparently my stress is nothing compared to his stress from doing dishes and cleaning all day. (I do not mean to demean his job, I just don’t know any other way to phrase it.)
If I snap at him or say something mean, I get helllll for it. However, when he does it and I give him a hard time, I’m being “overdramatic and selfish”. Almost anything I complain about or ask for makes me selfish.
I’m not sure about the point of this post, I’m just so irritated! He will be starting school in the fall, and is saying that he shouldn’t even bother with financial aid and student loans because he doesn’t know what he wants to do. I’m so afraid that he will end up not getting an education.
I don’t know what I’m saying. I’m just stressed and my head is full of cell structure from a giant study session yesterday. I just want my fiance to be there for me, and to at least try to understand what it is like to be, well, ME. He is great at understanding himself, but not ME. We are very different people, especially since I am a woman. (Hormones, anyone?) When I overreact and get depressed over something silly, I want a hug. Not a lecture more or less conveying how simple minded I am. I want to be “wooed” sometimes and surprised with small romantic gestures. I just want to be appreciated and thought about. I love feeling loved and cherished, and I don’t feel that very often anymore. It seems like any special thing that we do has to be thought of and planned by me.
I’ve told him about how I feel, but he gets angry and says I am full of shit. He makes me feel like my life is not nearly as accountable or important as his, and it hurts. Even more so when I know that I don’t have to live this way, but I don’t know if it is all in my head or real.