Silent Treatment. Again.

25 Nov

I walked in the door last night and smelled the crap from the night before re-heating in the oven. Gak! My stomach was already churning while my brain tried to figure out what his mood would be. You see, my period started on T-day morning*, so it’s been three whole days since he’s had sex, and that is always a recipe for a blow-up.

He was sitting in “his” chair, reading a magazine, cat on his lap. I received a package in the mail and so I said, “I should send her a note and let her know the package arrived so she doesn’t worry,” and walked into the computer room. As soon as I sat down (my chair is rather noisy) he asked me if I was going to turn dinner on.

“I thought by the smell it was already on,” I replied, walking back into the living room (because he claims not to be able to hear me if I’m not standing right in front of him like a naughty child.)

“I had it on for awhile, but you should check it to see if it’s hot enough.”

Whatever. I checked, turned back on as it wasn’t yet hot, told him I had done so and sat back in front of my computer. I wrote one note and spent a grand total of 15 minutes in there before turning off my computer (it was plain that it was not to be a computer night, but not yet clear what kind of hell it was going to be.)

I heard him in the kitchen, dishing up his meal. He did not tell me it was ready, did not set out a plate and fork for me, did not say that he was going to eat now, nothing. Great. Silent Treatment Night. “Oh! I see you came up for air!” he declared when I came into the kitchen. Whatever.

Now, just so we’re on the same page, he insists that I let him know 10 minutes beforehand that dinner is ready. He also likes a 5-minute warning. It’s a little ritual he has trained me to perform and it fills me with anxiety. When he cooks, OTOH, he makes no announcements, but fills his plate and starts to eat when he’s ready, or he will leave the food on the stove until it’s burned because he “thought [I] wasn’t ready to eat yet. Now it’s ruined but we will eat it anyway because wasting food is sacrilege.” When I pointed out to him, years ago, that it was rather unfair to not let anyone know when food is ready (speaking mostly for my son who had an upstairs bedroom at the time. Oh, the door had to be closed at all times to keep the heat on the lower floor.) he said, “if people want to eat, they should pay attention to what’s going on and show up in time for the meal.” So many games!

Anyway. I choked down my allotted portion while reading my Kindle and watching him out of the corner of my eye as he continued to read his magazine. Nothing. He decided he wanted some ice cream (did not offer me any, if it matters) and when he opened the container, it was too hard to easily spoon into a bowl. The container came from my work** and said “peppermint candy” on the lid as it had been used before, washed and used again (reduce, reuse, recycle, dontcha know) and he thought that the pink ice cream inside was “candy” and was already pissed about that. He asked what he should do.

“In my professional opinion, you should let it sit on the counter for a few minutes.”

He flopped down onto the chair and said in a little-boy petulant voice, “I have no patience. I hate to wait.”

God! I asked what he had in mind and he said that he didn’t want any of the “candy” in the container, only the vanilla. Like an exasperated mother, I explained that the pink ice cream was strawberry, his favorite, and I would never bring home “candy” ice cream because I know he doesn’t like it.

He asked why the lid said “peppermint candy” if it wasn’t.

I sound crazy right here, don’t I? Welcome to the Fun House!

I turned on the TV. He joined me on the couch. Barely a word was spoken. I walked the dog, got undressed and into bed with my Kindle***.

He made one final check of his e-mail, typing out a long note to someone before coming to bed. It took a long time for me to fall asleep, but at least there were no nightmares.

Another day, another guess about what it brings from him. More silent treatment! Yay! He got out of bed, showered, dressed and started breakfast, which is always oatmeal and tea for him, the same for me with the addition of toast. Since he is incapable of making tea, that job falls to me, but this rambling post is not about that.

After eating, he was sitting at the table reading his magazine. He had not spoken more than three words to me yet.

“What are your plans for the day?” I asked. The sun is shining today, which means outside work of some kind, probably doing some job he imagines I have let go and he will be angry by the time I get home, so it’s good to know in advance.

“Beat my meat.”

“All day long?” I asked.

“Probably. I have to entertain myself. There’s no one else here.” Said with a flat tone and an accusing look.

“I’m sitting right here,” I replied with the same flat tone.

There followed some rather rude (and now irritating beyond belief) tongue gestures (sorry, A!) as he tried to “entice” me into…something. I tell you what, I am just so repulsed by what used to be a joke between us that I can’t even fake it any more.

I reminded him that I was going to stop at the grocery store on the way home, kissed him on the cheek and left early for work.

God! I am going to lose my mind before this is all over.

* TMI? It’s my blog and I think it matters, so buck up or skip the parts you are uncomfortable with 🙂

** That’s right – after 20+ years working in the architecture/engineering industry I have now become so “specialized” that I can’t get an office job any-fucking-where and so I scoop ice cream in a cute little shop for minimum wage. I am trying not to be bitter, as the job is mindless, I have a great Boss, and no stress to bring home to add to what’s already there. Oh, and we have wifi and a netbook so that I can blog to my heart’s content. Yes, the Boss knows I am blogging about my situation, but he has not asked and I have not shared the address with him.

*** I LOVE my Kindle. I also love to collect old books, but they take up a lot of space, so I have been downloading those that are free onto the Kindle and putting the rest onto my Amazon wishlist for later purchase as I get rid of extra things that will not fit into my new life. I don’t know how much of that I want to share here because sooner or later this blog will be found or made public and I don’t want the Narc to be able to easily see what I’m up to, but if you “friend” Sofia Leo on FB or follow Narc-B-Gone you can catch a glimpse of my plans. He has been blocked forever from those accounts and I will be very careful of who I let in. I’m eager to see what you all think, though.


Posted by on November 25, 2012 in Emotional Abuse, Narcissist, Passive/Aggressive


Tags: , ,

5 responses to “Silent Treatment. Again.

  1. lifebegins45

    November 25, 2012 at 9:58 pm

    The silent treatment, incorporated with the stupid jabs make life one living nightmare!! You’re almost out of there….

  2. Melanie

    November 26, 2012 at 12:34 pm

    Oh man, the silent treatment. God I hate that one. There were so many times, and it was worse than the yelling. The worst, I think, had to be the time he refused to even look at me after I was in a car accident. He was pissed because his truck was damaged, because he had a $500 deductible, and because I missed the scheduled appointment with his drug dealer. He never once asked me if I was ok or if our daughter, also in the car accident, was ok. I met him at the car when he got home and he walked right past me and into the house. Then he called his bum-chum and the two of them sat around and got drunk and laughed about “stupid woman drivers”.

    • Sofia Leo

      November 26, 2012 at 4:25 pm

      Wow! That really sucks. What factory churns out these asshats?

      M doesn’t use the silent treatment much – he prefers to lecture and pontificate. When he’s silent I know that I only have to wait a few hours to see what offense I’ve committed – he can’t hold out any longer than a child could.

  3. Scott Williams

    November 26, 2012 at 7:44 pm

    there is some huge sexual dysfunction there, as well as a ton of other stuff (him).

    • Sofia Leo

      November 27, 2012 at 4:18 pm

      Nah, his dick works perfectly. All the time. Never a break.

      Oh, that’s not what you meant? 🙂 Yes, he does have a ton of baggage that he will never take out and look at to see if what’s wrong with “us” is HIM.


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