I'm gonna lose it

My hormones are completely out of whack. At least that is what I am blaming for the sob fest I had coming into work this morning.

Things seem strained at home. I can’t put my finger on it, but there is a subtle change in the vibration there. The kids came over Wednesday and we have them until the 19^th or 20^th depending on when we get back from the dreaded Tampa Trip. I can’t put my finger on it. But part of me wants to “tap out” for the weekend and just run away for a few days. Maybe he feels the same way. I just don’t know because we have not had a moment alone to talk about it.

I know I’m being neurotic but I feel dismissed. I feel unnecessary. I feel unloved. Like I’m there only for the chores I provide and for the support I provide to everyone else. But if I ask for support or if I ask for something I need, somehow I am now a pest. If I want to talk about how I feel or what I am going through I can forget it because if I’ve mentioned it once then that is enough. I get one time to say “I can’t get over how hungry I am!” and “I’m so tired.”  If I say it more than once then I’m repeating myself and I get an “I get it! You’re hungry!”  Ok geeze. Sorry for being such a pest about it. I’ll sit here and keep it all in from now on. (This “lovely” little passive aggressive tactic I learned from my darling Mother. You don’t want to hear what I have to say? Fine, I won’t say anything then.)  But in all seriousness I think he’s happier that way than with me telling him things.

I can’t talk to the kids about it because it is not a burden they should bear (much less tell their mother about) and their father is not interested in hearing about what I have to say (or so it seems) so who does that leave? Friends, yes. But not many of them know. And the ones that do, I’m getting tired of telling them the same things and not being able to confide in my husband the things I am going through, because (just like I expected) he’s done this before and has very little patience for it.

I sometimes wonder if it would be easier to be doing this with someone who has never done it before. At least then I could express what was happening and how I was feeling without feeling like I am doing battle with “what it was like with the kids.” I am so tired of hearing what the Evil Ex went through. YEAH, YOU KNOW WHAT? I’M A BITCH AND I DON’T CARE!

I don’t care what she did. I don’t care what she does now. You know what kids? I don’t give a damn about how she blows her nose, or what she did when you were little, or what she does now. I’m so fucking over everything about her. You can’t bring me up at her house, so you know what? New rule. You can’t bring her up here. I’m fing tired of it.

I’m hormonal. This will pass. I can’t freak out on anyone or about anything. I need to take a deep breath, find the high road, and follow it. I need to let it go. That’s my rational mind telling me what to do and how to get through this.

My hyper-irrational mind says f’em all. I’m buying a sailboat and sailing away never to be seen again. I’ll have a tan little swab to help me sail the boat in a few months. No I know nothing about sailing, no I have no idea how I would buy a boat, and no I don’t know where I would go. But does it really matter?

What I will do is go home. Take the abuse silently. Try to get through until tomorrow when I get to see some girlfriends with whom I have gone through thick and thin and I get to tell them my news. Then I can be more open with them and talk about this and lose my composure with them. I think I need a good cry…a REAL good cry, not a “I’m driving 70 down the Interstate to work and I’d better not have puffy eyes when I get there” cry.