Just about at boiling point so I'm sorry if I sound unhinged. I get pressure headaches almost every day these days, not to mention occasional loss of temper in which things are thrown, punched and the room is filled with colourful language that could leave Gordon Ramsay gawping. Any advice or insight or plain old opinions are appreciated. Did I make the wrong choice to begin with? Is love even enough to stand a hurricane like this?
In 2013 I moved from England to the US to be with my now-husband. He is 4 years younger than me, I'm 29. We adopted 2 gorgeous cats that are our babies, taking into account neither of us want (nor can we afford) children. We live in the converted basement of his parents' house, thankfully they do not want rent until we are both earning. His family are lovely to us, though I have some frustrations with them due to cultural differences (they are S-American Hispanic, I'm white) and his relationship with them is that he is rude and generally abnormal towards them. Note that 90% of his time is spent playing video games. Maybe an escape, but it is his number one hobby.
He was studying Psychology and always hoped to get his PhD, but this never happened. The doctorate was partly why I agreed to moving here, as otherwise I was earning a nice monthly wage in my job in England that could have given us a start. I gave up my job, my family and all for this. It was always agreed that one day we may move to England, apparently that was a lie much like everything else.
So picture this, just over a year later, we're still both jobless and I'm reduced to an allowance that comes out of my inheritance from my late brother. He "works" writing online for around $5 per piece, usually one a day. I do the same when possible but it makes little difference as half my money goes on kitty food. Please don't suggest giving up my pets as this is not even a consideration and I take better care of them than some people do their own children. I love them to pieces. I came here with savings that have long since dried up and I could not even get health insurance so I have the clothes on my back. Now we are paying for our own groceries which has left me utterly borasic. We buy communal groceries and our own, and for example he won't even buy milk as says he can do without it, I'm sure you can imagine how that works out?
I do 90% of the cleaning including bins, washing and stuff. He seems to have started doing a little more perhaps due to my recent job stresses which is admittedly good of him. The bedroom looks like a clothes store uses it for storage.
Cats are mine, so no help there with food and he would laugh at the thought of doing the litter or washing their bedding. Thank god for no kids, right?
I've had 5 (or more) interviews for jobs through the year (considering 100s of resumes and applications sent), most of them at the hospital, and never received a call back even when I am told that I will. This is despite thorough experience in admin and IT qualifications. One interviewer made it sound like it was in the bag but afterwards I never got a call or reply to my email, then a similar phone call again yesterday, both of which are the straw that broke the camel's back. I'm now feeling the misery, like this is ageing me. So now I feel only frustration and anger in a place that is driving me mad, suffice to say I'm not in love with NY or the US in general right now for many reasons, some unrelated. Not for one moment before and after coming here did I think I would have so much trouble finding work, and I never agreed to living here forever. As for my hubby, he has only ever worked once around Thanksgiving as a delivery driver and nothing since not even a phone call from prospective employers. So perhaps me living in a primarily Hispanic area isn't a cause after all, though it does sometimes prove an issue as employers want Spanish speakers here.
When I try to talk to him about us moving to England where I think we will have better prospects, he flat-out refuses. He says he likes living in NY and wouldn't want to be away from the things he knows, even though I gave up my family who I am so close to and a job that mostly recognised my abilities. He doesn't like talking about any of this as he says it ends in an argument, and even tried to make me feel selfish for wanting to have my own home.
I do not have any friends here as we're not overly social types, but I can't speak to my English friends either way as they are not exactly the most deep or insightful people more like celebrity gossip or shopping pals. Eh.
So at 29 I am now a ball of rage and misery. Also sometimes angry at my mother who refused to allow me (or my sister who was also working full time) access to my inheritance in order for my hubby and me to have gotten onto the housing ladder with my income at the time. It's like between her, him and the employers I'm destined to end up in a mental institution at this rate.
Am I being a brat here? My hubby thinks I am. Maybe I'm going about something wrong but how do you put your foot down and should I set a time when I'm giving up on this whole process whether he wants to join me or not?
Thanks so much for any advice. I'm drowning here.
In 2013 I moved from England to the US to be with my now-husband. He is 4 years younger than me, I'm 29. We adopted 2 gorgeous cats that are our babies, taking into account neither of us want (nor can we afford) children. We live in the converted basement of his parents' house, thankfully they do not want rent until we are both earning. His family are lovely to us, though I have some frustrations with them due to cultural differences (they are S-American Hispanic, I'm white) and his relationship with them is that he is rude and generally abnormal towards them. Note that 90% of his time is spent playing video games. Maybe an escape, but it is his number one hobby.
He was studying Psychology and always hoped to get his PhD, but this never happened. The doctorate was partly why I agreed to moving here, as otherwise I was earning a nice monthly wage in my job in England that could have given us a start. I gave up my job, my family and all for this. It was always agreed that one day we may move to England, apparently that was a lie much like everything else.
So picture this, just over a year later, we're still both jobless and I'm reduced to an allowance that comes out of my inheritance from my late brother. He "works" writing online for around $5 per piece, usually one a day. I do the same when possible but it makes little difference as half my money goes on kitty food. Please don't suggest giving up my pets as this is not even a consideration and I take better care of them than some people do their own children. I love them to pieces. I came here with savings that have long since dried up and I could not even get health insurance so I have the clothes on my back. Now we are paying for our own groceries which has left me utterly borasic. We buy communal groceries and our own, and for example he won't even buy milk as says he can do without it, I'm sure you can imagine how that works out?
I do 90% of the cleaning including bins, washing and stuff. He seems to have started doing a little more perhaps due to my recent job stresses which is admittedly good of him. The bedroom looks like a clothes store uses it for storage.
Cats are mine, so no help there with food and he would laugh at the thought of doing the litter or washing their bedding. Thank god for no kids, right?
I've had 5 (or more) interviews for jobs through the year (considering 100s of resumes and applications sent), most of them at the hospital, and never received a call back even when I am told that I will. This is despite thorough experience in admin and IT qualifications. One interviewer made it sound like it was in the bag but afterwards I never got a call or reply to my email, then a similar phone call again yesterday, both of which are the straw that broke the camel's back. I'm now feeling the misery, like this is ageing me. So now I feel only frustration and anger in a place that is driving me mad, suffice to say I'm not in love with NY or the US in general right now for many reasons, some unrelated. Not for one moment before and after coming here did I think I would have so much trouble finding work, and I never agreed to living here forever. As for my hubby, he has only ever worked once around Thanksgiving as a delivery driver and nothing since not even a phone call from prospective employers. So perhaps me living in a primarily Hispanic area isn't a cause after all, though it does sometimes prove an issue as employers want Spanish speakers here.
When I try to talk to him about us moving to England where I think we will have better prospects, he flat-out refuses. He says he likes living in NY and wouldn't want to be away from the things he knows, even though I gave up my family who I am so close to and a job that mostly recognised my abilities. He doesn't like talking about any of this as he says it ends in an argument, and even tried to make me feel selfish for wanting to have my own home.
I do not have any friends here as we're not overly social types, but I can't speak to my English friends either way as they are not exactly the most deep or insightful people more like celebrity gossip or shopping pals. Eh.
So at 29 I am now a ball of rage and misery. Also sometimes angry at my mother who refused to allow me (or my sister who was also working full time) access to my inheritance in order for my hubby and me to have gotten onto the housing ladder with my income at the time. It's like between her, him and the employers I'm destined to end up in a mental institution at this rate.
Am I being a brat here? My hubby thinks I am. Maybe I'm going about something wrong but how do you put your foot down and should I set a time when I'm giving up on this whole process whether he wants to join me or not?
Thanks so much for any advice. I'm drowning here.
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