Sunday, August 5, 2007
Sunday Night
I've been angry at my husband this weekend. There's no apparent reason for it. I'm mad that he wants to talk to me, that he asks what I want to eat for lunch or dinner. I'm mad that we have to make decisions together, that my decision to be in a bad mood matters to him. I'm mad that he doesn't understand what I'm thinking or feeling, that he doesn't know how to make me feel better, that he doesn't know what I need and when. I'm mad that I would have to tell him all these things in order for him to know them, and I'm mad that I would have to figure out what I know before I could communicate that to Richard. I don't feel like taking the time, investing the effort, to be still with myself long enough to analyze the make-up of irritability, anxiety and discontent that grows over my being like mold.
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1 comment:
I spent a lot of time being mad at Jrex this weekend, too. I was so done with having to figure out my emotions and make it safe for him in the midst of them. I just wanted to be mad and make him do the work. It didn't seem to work out so well. Sigh.
In the end I just sat by him, leaning on his shoulder. Without words we both just decided to not bother with sorting it out.
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