Why do I bother?

My laptop died. I lost everything. Including photos I have never gotten around to uploading on a back-up site. Photos of the kids. Photos I loved.

And then I got tired of complaining, so I thought I'd stop posting here.

But you know what? I'm addicted to the Internet. Because the Internet doesn't tell me to shut my pie hole like my husband just did.

Yes, he did. He's never done that before. He might apologize for it later, I don't know. He doesn't like to apologize.

I guess I might as well admit that I did marry a loser. I love him, but I'm not going to make excuses for him. He can't get it together. He doesn't know how. He hates that he's a loser and he doesn't know how to fix it. And I can't fix it for him.

His mom took the kids today. We had some time alone -- hours alone, for the first time in I don't know how long. We ate breakfast together, but that was it. He went his way, I went mine. When we finally headed over to get the kids, the tire was flat. He didn't want to change it, and I wanted him to. I would have done it myself, but I'm not strong enough to work the jack or undo the lug nuts (not since I had wrist surgery). I couldn't understand why he just wouldn't do it, and all he could say was, "I don't like to." It was irritating, and I was irritated. I just wanted him to explain it to me, and he didn't have any way to explain. So he yelled at me. He started to change the tire, but when he called his mom to tell her we were running late because of the tire, she said she'd bring the kids home. I guess he got his way after all.

And now I'm hiding in my room, on the internet. Because the internet doesn't yell at me and tell me to shut my pie hole.

Is my marriage falling apart? Sure feels like it. He just wants me to stay out of his way, so that's what I do. I don't like it. I'm a fighter. I want to fight for this, make it right, make it better, make it work. But you know marriages take two people fighting for it.

I still think he'll come around on the marriage. He doesn't believe in divorce, either. The rest of it -- well, I guess I don't think it's realistic to believe that he will someday get a good-paying job that takes the pressure off me. I'll always be the primary breadwinner, until I retire. And since I can't change that, I have to be okay with that.

I want a mother so bad. I guess that's one reason why I am Catholic now, because we Catholics have Mary and most other kinds of Christians ignore her.

My mom wasn't much of a mother. She ignored us when we were babies, crying in the night. She never even taught me to say "please" and "thank you" -- I had to teach myself that. I figured out in college what a rude person I was and it took me years to fix it, and I'm probably still far more rude than I realize.

I just want a mother. I want a mother to advise me and help me and encourage me. I want a mother to praise me when I do something right and help me figure out how to correct things when I do them wrong. I want a mother who will pray for me and gently help me stay on the straight and narrow.

I know I have Mary, but sometimes I wish I had somebody more tangible. I fear I am not a good mom because I didn't have a good mom. Sometimes I get irritable about Mary because she had, like, the perfect son. And the perfect husband. And she didn't feel so alone and helpless that the Internet was her best friend in the world.

My husband used to be my best friend in the world. I sure miss him.