BEL MOONEY: My husband sits around watching films all day, bullies my family and makes crass jokes about cancer. Should I leave him?

Dear Bel,

I look forward to your page, searching for answers that may apply to me. No longer young, I’m still working and do get tired, but hate the thought of being at home around my husband, as he works nights so is often up in the day.

He’s very selfish; life with him is now hard to bear. The positives are that we both like going out and on holiday. The negatives are many and I don’t know how much longer I can tolerate this life.

I do absolutely everything in the house, including DIY, gardening, and heavy stuff. He does nothing but watch films and view Facebook. No hobbies. He gets annoyed if I mention the lack of help – though he is basically useless at all jobs.

I was married for 12 years to a ­controlling man. We divorced and I met my present husband. He was completely different and (I thought) a breath of fresh air – even though he seemed immature. He’d just finished ten years in the navy and seemed fun.

We had three children (all with ­partners now) but many times I’ve had to calm family situations due to his temper. I know he bullied our two sons. I only found it out in the last few years. He’d tell them off then warn them not to say anything to me or they’d know about it. The worst thing is his sulking and awful sense of ‘humour.’ He makes out he is a fun chap making very loud jokes – but at the expense of the people he’s telling his ‘joke’ to. He makes very rude personal comments, laughs loudly to brush it off as a joke, then storms off in anger if I try to mention it.

He puts people down for his own ­entertainment and laughs loudly. He has insulted my family, making them out to be a joke. One day in the supermarket we met two elderly ladies we know and when one told us she had terminal ­cancer, he replied, ‘Oh good, I like a good funeral.’

I can’t get that and other remarks out of my head. I feel extremely unhappy. Today, when I told him how very low I feel, all I got was: ‘Join the club.’

I don’t know what to do. It would be hard going through another separation. selling the house and uprooting again. I am completely taken for granted and if I try to resolve anything by asking for a chat his eyes go wild.

When he gets mad he punches holes in doors and twists everything. I keep ­telling myself things could be worse but I don’t know how much more I can take. Please advise.

PATRICIA 

Bel  Mooney replies: Your letter was over twice as long as this and I realised, by the end of the first paragraph, that you know exactly what you have to do.

It was as if all the detail you provided was not for me but for you yourself, as a means of giving evidence in favour of ending this marriage. Isn’t that what we often do, when we moan to friends about aspects of our life? Provide reasons to ourselves for making changes?

But change is very hard. As we get older even a small shift, like trying a new route to work, can make a ­person nervous.

It’s far from easy to acknowledge that an old friend’s views have become toxic and you don’t want to see her. So how much harder is it – to consider striking out on your own again, after calling time on a marriage?

Yet what can I say when I read a long email which is one long cry of ­frustration? You married your husband on the rebound (a year is not long) after a bad marriage, and saw his faults, even if you didn’t fully acknowledge them.

You observed that he was far from being a good father and was very lazy; now you admit it’s only the prospect of holidays which keeps you going.

You hate the idea of being at home with him and are chronically ­embarrassed and angry when forced to observe his boorishness with other people. He sounds like the bully he was when your sons were younger – and when they kept the truth from you, under threat.

Is the only reason you are ­staying in this marriage the fact that it will be tough to end it? You are younger than I, and I have to tell you that spending the last period of my life being unhappy with a lazy bully and boor would be a fate worse than death.

I would rather live in a small flat alone than in a house with a man who makes tasteless jokes at the expense of others. Have you taken the family into your ­confidence? I would.

You have to decide for yourself whether you value your life so ­little you are prepared to sacrifice it on the altar of marriage. I believe in the institution, but not at such a great cost. Let me assure you that I have received many letters of thanks from women I urged to make a break from a miserable life with an unloved and unloving husband.

Yes, it’s hard – but weigh that against not waking up feeling miserable. And being free.

My friend’s erratic driving terrifies me  

Dear Bel,

I have been good friends with Sally for about ten years. She’s 78; I’m younger. We live a few miles apart and both have cars. We talk on the phone and meet ­regularly. Lately I’ve noticed a cognitive decline in her, on more than one level.

Most serious is her driving. Collecting me one day, she started to drive ­erratically, then said she had a very bad headache with a noise in her head like a constant tapping.

Quote of the week 

Lives of great men all remind us

We can make our lives sublime,

And, departing, leave behind us

Footprints on the sands of time.

From A Psalm Of Life by Henry W. Longfellow (American poet 1807 – 1882)

The ride back home was horrendous: she drove scarily at 40 in a 30 zone, didn’t seem to know where she was, and when I said ‘you need to be in here’, slammed on her brakes and swerved left across my neighbour’s drive before turning right into mine.

My son said it sounded like some neurological event and that I shouldn’t ever let her drive me anywhere again.

I should add that to get ­anywhere from her home she first has to negotiate a dual carriageway. That ­terrifies me, what if she tries to get over both parts in one go, or heaven forbid, goes the wrong way towards the traffic?

As she has no family or close relatives, I decided to phone and gently tell her I was ­concerned about her health. She went a bit quiet, so I asked her if she remembered driving me home, yes she did, so I mentioned ignoring the speed limits twice, which is not like her, then forgetting where I live.

She said I had been talking too, much upsetting her ­concentration, and denied the speeding. I told her I had been silent during the ­journey and stressed my ­concern for her.

Then she started to shout, accusing me of being rude. Said she can’t even speak to me now because she was so mad with me – said goodbye and hung up. I suppose she may eventually calm down and phone me, but do you think I overstepped the mark?

ELIZA

And finally… simple joy of a job shared with love

Our 17th wedding ­anniversary came and went with no celebration.

It’s the ‘Furniture’ ­anniversary but we don’t need any – though my ­husband did spend half a day driving 16 miles with the trailer to pick up a ­second-hand sofa my ­daughter bought on eBay. By the time he’d finished ­lugging it about and getting it into place he’d had enough of furniture!

We’re not mad about ­restaurants, nor champagne – so what to do? We marked the day by picking apples (the trees are laden at the moment, after none last year) to make spiced apple jelly. It’s really delicious with roast chicken and our stash from 2022 had run out.

Chop, weigh, add cinnamon and cloves, measure water, simmer, strain through a ­muslin, add sugar and boil some more, until it’s reached the setting point when it can be cooled.

Now the labelled jars of jelly are stacked in the larder with the green tomato chutney we made last week – and next on our list will be apple and walnut chutney. I can’t look at Cheddar or cold meat ­without craving chutney, so this is all a self-serving labour of love.

But where is the real love? You know the answer. It lies within simple domestic tasks which become pleasure when shared with somebody you love.

When you’re young it’s wonderful to dress up and go out (no expense spared) or plan a romantic holiday when you know you’ll want to spend a lot of time in the hotel room.

Yet the blessing of a long relationship is knowing you don’t depend on ‘romance’ but value the luck and delight of what’s mundane. Troublesome little cupid grows up – and swaps his arrows for a wee knife for chopping apples, in quiet companionship.

  • Bel answers readers’ questions on emotional and relationship problems each week. Write to Bel Mooney, Daily Mail, 9 Derry Street, London W8 5HY, or email bel.mooney@dailymail.co.uk. Names are changed to protect identities. Bel reads all letters but regrets she cannot enter into personal correspondence. 

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