Ask anyone who knows me and they will tell you that I'm a pretty calm and laid-back person. Ask anyone who works with me and they will tell you that I'm a good-humoured and even-tempered person. So why was it tonight I found myself flying into the kind of rage that only seems to come out about once every two years? You know when you're so angry, frustrated and upset that you literally spit your words out but they don't make any sense? When the sane, rational side of you evaporates for a split second and with a moment's whoosh of adrenaline the lunatic monster pushes its way out of your throat, your eyeballs and it all just gets a bit Exorcist?
I am at the end of a bad week. Okay, my other half reminded me this evening that "every week" is a bad week for me, but this particular week you just couldn't make up. My team mate at work has been away all week so I have been thoroughly biserable. But that's alright because she is going through a very personal and devastating crisis, and due to this I haven't been able sleep properly or think straight all week. I love this girl, she is such a fantastic person and my heart is fucking breaking for her. So I have faced the ultimate test of grieving and welling up in between putting my work face on and soldiering on all week. With a deep hatred of Business As Usual.
In between this are emotional, staccato emails from one of my sisters. Now and again we do this- send silent, long distance pleas for help during our working week. It's like holding hands but not knowing what's going on at the other end.
Then at 3am this morning Social Services came to the door saying that my fiance's mother had set off the personal alarm she wears around her neck. So he rushed into her house thinking the worst, only to find her sleeping peacefully, with the alarm sitting untouched on the bedside table. She had probably set it off accidentally whilst getting ready for bed, no doubt in her usual 1am drunken state. As a result I slept through my alarm this morning and got into work late. My boss came over and asked if I was okay. I said I didn't know. Maybe. The day happened anyway, regardless of whether I was okay or not. But I got through it with the aid of some very sweet emails from the boy, promising me lots of attention when I got home.
I walked into my dark house tonight and remembered how nice it was last September to see my mum waiting for me at the door with a hug. Instead tonight I saw her postcard in the letterbox and felt an awful lump at the back of my throat. I cooked dinner as usual, even though I really didn't feel like it. And just as I was looking forward to all the attention I was promised from the boy, he said he was going to have his mate over. Then I flipped out.
He asked "are you on your period or something, you're acting like a bunny boiler" which made me even worse. Ask ANY WOMAN. So following some extremely heated words (us), deadly looks (me) and about 16 tissues (me again) I was sat down and basically told to stop whinging and get my shit together. Okaaay. Well it wasn't that harsh but it wasn't far from it. Thanks for the love, babe.
But you know what? Fundamentally he is right. The bastard. Sure it's been an upsetting week, but obviously more so for someone other than me. Maybe I have had some deep seated issues stirred up from within my tightly packed, neatly folded and repressed self. Perhaps. Maybe I'm not so calm and laid back after all, I'm just too scared to act out whenever I feel like it, thus saving it all for those 2-yearly Krakatoa type eruptions. Probably. Anyway I promise this will be the last whiney, self indulgent blog I write. Hopefully. Emotions are a little bit high at the moment.
I am at the end of a bad week. Okay, my other half reminded me this evening that "every week" is a bad week for me, but this particular week you just couldn't make up. My team mate at work has been away all week so I have been thoroughly biserable. But that's alright because she is going through a very personal and devastating crisis, and due to this I haven't been able sleep properly or think straight all week. I love this girl, she is such a fantastic person and my heart is fucking breaking for her. So I have faced the ultimate test of grieving and welling up in between putting my work face on and soldiering on all week. With a deep hatred of Business As Usual.
In between this are emotional, staccato emails from one of my sisters. Now and again we do this- send silent, long distance pleas for help during our working week. It's like holding hands but not knowing what's going on at the other end.
Then at 3am this morning Social Services came to the door saying that my fiance's mother had set off the personal alarm she wears around her neck. So he rushed into her house thinking the worst, only to find her sleeping peacefully, with the alarm sitting untouched on the bedside table. She had probably set it off accidentally whilst getting ready for bed, no doubt in her usual 1am drunken state. As a result I slept through my alarm this morning and got into work late. My boss came over and asked if I was okay. I said I didn't know. Maybe. The day happened anyway, regardless of whether I was okay or not. But I got through it with the aid of some very sweet emails from the boy, promising me lots of attention when I got home.
I walked into my dark house tonight and remembered how nice it was last September to see my mum waiting for me at the door with a hug. Instead tonight I saw her postcard in the letterbox and felt an awful lump at the back of my throat. I cooked dinner as usual, even though I really didn't feel like it. And just as I was looking forward to all the attention I was promised from the boy, he said he was going to have his mate over. Then I flipped out.
He asked "are you on your period or something, you're acting like a bunny boiler" which made me even worse. Ask ANY WOMAN. So following some extremely heated words (us), deadly looks (me) and about 16 tissues (me again) I was sat down and basically told to stop whinging and get my shit together. Okaaay. Well it wasn't that harsh but it wasn't far from it. Thanks for the love, babe.
But you know what? Fundamentally he is right. The bastard. Sure it's been an upsetting week, but obviously more so for someone other than me. Maybe I have had some deep seated issues stirred up from within my tightly packed, neatly folded and repressed self. Perhaps. Maybe I'm not so calm and laid back after all, I'm just too scared to act out whenever I feel like it, thus saving it all for those 2-yearly Krakatoa type eruptions. Probably. Anyway I promise this will be the last whiney, self indulgent blog I write. Hopefully. Emotions are a little bit high at the moment.
1 comment:
You know...I relate to this feeling of...emotional fragility.
It happens sometimes.
And if a man promises you attention, and you've been looking forward to it all day, he should BLOODY WELL KEEP HIS WORD!
and not palm it off and make his wonderful fiance feel like she's being unreasonable.
You are a precious woman, and deserve to be spoilt by attention when you need it.
Wake up men! It's a small investment, and only serves to make your lives easier in the long run.
It's those moments of loving care that make all the rest seem worthwhile.
We're all sensitive delicate creatures, aren't we.
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