I need to start blogging regularly again. I feel like I’m going kind of nuts in this house and I need some sort of proof or sanity check in a blog. i tried to create a different blog and no one could read it and I couldn’t see how to enable access, so I’ve resurrected this one which is probably just as well as I really need to deal with the sugar addiction too, but that’s another post for another day.

I just want to record some things that happened this week. On Wednesday, a close friend was coming over. Last time she had eaten at our house, the Saint had shot her down over dinner when she had suggested to our son that ice-cream and lemonade was a great mix and he’d leapt at the idea and said he wanted to make it and the Saint had said “No” really firmly. Then, following an awkward silence around the table, had explained it would be a waste of good ingredients. I was embarrassed and annoyed and told the Saint after by email (seeing as we don’t and can’t discuss anything). I asked him if it was to show he was the man in charge. I couldn’t understand why he’d done it. He never replied of course.

I wanted to be able to talk freely and maybe tell her about what had been going on with my nationality refusal, so I wondered whether we should go out for a meal but I know the kids like seeing her, so wasn’t sure what to do. In the end, it was decided for me on Tuesday evening. The Saint doesn’t like President Macron and there had been some incident that was all over the news that day (that he was fully aware of because I’d been listening to the French news in the morning and it was on there when he was in the bathroom and I’d even asked him a question about it as I hadn’t fully understood what was going on). I had seen posts about it on social media (Facebook – the only one i use) and had read about it in the French press so I understood what had happened now and friends were posting “Je suis sale conne” after an embarrassing recording of Brigitte Macron had been released. I told this to the Saint in the evening thinking he would like it. He said it was American and Russian disinformation. I said it wasn’t. It was only in the French media and it had genuinely happened. He said it was being blown out of proportion by American and Russian bots to discredit European governments. I said it was French left-wing feminists and had nothing to do with that. I realised at that point that I officially cannot have a conversation with my husband about anything. i had started a conversation about something I thought might have been of interest to him about something about the news in France. And it had blown up in my face, like all other conversations we have.

I therefore arranged to go out with my friend the next evening to avoid any more tense meals around our dining table. Child3 was really upset as he wanted to see more of my friend. I said he would see her in the upcoming Christmas holidays. As we were driving to the restaurant, she told me that the Saint had apologised to her but she wasn’t sure what for. I told her and she remembered the incident. She thought it was odd that he’d brought it up when I wasn’t around. Anyway, we had a lovely evening out. I told her everything that had been going on lately – the fight in 2017, the ensuing nationality refusal, the expensive legal battle, and now the fact that the Saint had rewritten the whole story to absolve himself of his role in the argument preceding the fight. She was quite shocked. She asked where i could go with it now seeing as he won’t discuss anything and has changed all the facts anyway and i explained that I couldn’t see a way out, so would just try and spend as little time around him as possible seeing as he doesn’t want to split up and I’m financially better off in the house that is paid off rather than buying somewhere else. Living apart together basically. She said that was quite sad and I agree – I can’t believe I ended up in the kind of relationship that my parents had. I thought I’d moved in with someone who was quiet and fair, not someone so vindictive and manipulative, and now there seems no way out.

We got home and the Saint was still up. He was nice to us and before he went to bed he gave me a kiss in front of my friend. I went to bed an hour later and there was no phone charger in my room which I thought was odd as I rarely move it and didn’t recall having moved it. I looked in the dining room and there was nothing, so I took the one out of the front room and used that for the night. In the morning, the Saint – in front of my friend and the children – said that his charger had disappeared so he had taken the one from my room. Why would he do that unless he thought I was responsible for losing his charger? Like some punishment to leave me without one? Also, why had he not mentioned this to me when he was being publicly nice to me the night before? He could have asked if I’d seen his charger and he could have told me he’d taken mine as he couldn’t find his… It’s all so passive aggressive and devious… Anyhow I digress… I asked where it had been before it went missing. He said on the extension lead by the Christmas tree. Now i had moved a charger from that when I’d tidied up the night before (which he must have realised). So I said I was sorry and went upstairs to get the charger I had moved from where I’d put it in Child2’s room. I brought it down but it was the charger for her computer, not his phone. I said i didn’t understand it then because that was all I’d moved. He said it had definitely been there. I felt really confused – I must have moved it then as he had taken mine, but where would I have put it?!

He left with the children to take them to school as I had a medical appointment in the village before work. After they’d gone, I went and had a shower and wondered whether to say anything to my friend. I’m really embarrassed about ending up in such a dysfunctional relationship and such a horrible home environment. In the end, I decided to be open about it and said to my friend that what she had witnessed that morning is what happens all the time. I said I know I haven’t touched that charger but I’ll be wondering what I did with it all day now. It’s like constant mindfucks. She said it was like that with her ex and she had to write everything down and he still denied it.

I didn’t see the Saint that evening as I got back late and he was out with friends. When I went to bed, my charger had been put back in my room but nothing had been said which is also very deliberate on his part. The next morning I forgot to ask about it. Then I remembered on Saturday morning. I asked if his charger had turned up. He said “Oui. Au travail. C’est embetant”. I don’t get it on several levels. Why did he not get to work and send me a message to say “whoops, sorry, my charger was at work after all”? Why had he assumed it was my fault and taken mine without imagining for a minute he might have done something with it? And what is “embetant”??? The fact that it wasn’t my fault? The fact that it was at work? The fact that I’d brought it up?

I know this might seem trivial but honestly it’s like this constantly. I feel like I’m going insane. He thinks I’m to blame for EVERYTHING. It never crosses his mind he might have done something. I have soooooooooo many examples of this. One day I’ll put them down in the blog, but it’s late and I have another blog to write 😉