Husband yells and throws insults during arguments
Today was food shopping day, so everybody got in my car to go to town. On the 1st of March I had driven home with my stepdaughter in tow, and she and I had dinner in the car, she had some candy, normal kid stuff. Anyway, all her "Garbage" was in the front seat cup holder. The night we got home I asked her to clean out the garbage from the car. She forgot her candy wrappers and stuff. There was also a can of vanilla coke in the cup holder.
The car had some spilled chow mein on it because I was eating while driving because it was so late, around 7pm we had gone to the store and ran some errands for my husband as well. I was so tired when I got home I just forgot about the mess.
My husband gets in my car and he's sighing heavily and taking windex wipes and cleaning off my car. He started getting after me about how disgusting I am because my car is dirty. He starts mentioning food wrappers, and other things. I said, "I cleaned the car out before I left. The noodle mess is mine and the candy wrappers are your daughters"
The conversation proceeded in such a way that it brought me to tears, I said, "It is my car. If I want to keep it sparkly clean I will, I am sorry."
he asked me what I meant by "I'm sorry" and did I mean "I'm sorry, tough." I said no, "I'm sorry I didn't get the mess cleaned up before you got in the car"
After my pitiful attempt at making my point he looked me in the face and said, "I am not going to ride in a filthy, disgusting car, so tough" he then mentioned that we would not be taking the car into town again if it was messy or dirty and we would take his truck. (Which gets horrible gas mileage).
I was pretty pissed, and I did not really feel like talking to him. My husband asked me how I was on gas, I said I was fine. He asked me if I would care to elaborate I said not really. He called me a ****.
He then proceeded to describe me as the fat kid in class who has chocolate all over his mouth and hands, and how could I live in such a disgusting car. And if my mom and I wanted to roll around like pigs in our own filth that was our own choice.
He later said "I'm sorry I didn't mean to be hurtful" ok.. if you don't mean to be hurtful then why say hurtful things? He responded with, "I addressed the problem the only way I know how."
I finally thought the tyranny had ended, but then we got home and we were fixing the bathroom door and he got mad, yelled at me, GD word was thrown, and I broke down and cried again.
Prior to this my husband had stated to me about two or three months ago that he was tired of me crying... so I attempted to stop crying... however it is much more difficult to cut out ones emotions than one might think. SO I cried.
Apparently, also, if I am going to claim the car as mine (Which it is) then I am also responsible for everyone's garbage in the car. And that he would not let me blame his daughter for the mess. I did not blame his daughter, I accepted my mistake, the noodle mess, and she got hers the candy wrappers stuffed in the cup holder.
Here's the kicker: While he is in walmart with his daughter I finished wiping down the car and cleaning out garbage. He did not say anything about it. Not one word. Its like he didn't even notice. So he will notice the garbage but not the cleaning.
It is kind of sad actually, because it sometimes makes me wonder how he thinks insulting me is going to solve the problem? Apparently after an apology I am supposed to just forget the whole thing and be cheery happy afterwards. Sorry, but when I can't dictate what happens in my car, when I watch tv, when I wake up, or what I wear... its hard to come back from that. After his "Apology" he then ranted on about my hair and how I don't care about my appearance. I didn't wear makeup that day. I bleached my hair two weeks ago, got a haircut but some damage still remains and sadly, as a result my hair is poofy. I brushed my hair and put oil in it but I still poofs out. Especially in the wind.
My husband thinks and he has told me this, that if I don't notice things, then I don't care. How fair is that?