I lost my shit this weekend.
It started early Friday morning with drunken text messages from an ex-boyfriend from high school. These things don’t phase me. In fact, I find them quite entertaining. Mostly because I have insomnia and there isn’t much quality programming on TV in the middle of the night.
I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that it’s somewhat of an escape too. It’s a vacation from all my ailments and responsibilities as a thirty-something married woman and mother of three to listen to someone go on and on about how amazing I was back then. I honestly am not sure if any part of the girl I was even exists now but, it’s still nice to bask in her glory. It’s also nice when you’re married and your husband forgets that you can be the object of desire. I am not looking to relive any teenage fantasy. I just want someone to see me.
The texts were not the issue. Even my husband’s best friend will drunk text me and say very inappropriate things that we both crack up about. I was discussing the texts from my ex with my husband when the issue between us reared its ugly head. No, he wasn’t mad about them nor is he threatened in any way because he knows there is no reason to be. HE is my lobster.
He figured that a drunk ex -boyfriend would wander into his memories of how good I was in bed. (Yes, I’m good in bed. I own that shit.) In a, much failed, effort to just write them off and reassure him that nothing more would evolve from these drunk texts, I pointed out that I am, in fact, resistable. This was a reference to the fact that said husband has not had much interest in this golden vajayjay of mine.
He went into defense mode over my joke about out sex life and in the process of him doing so all the little things I shove down started to boil over and then flat-out erupted. I wanted to run away from all of it. Him, us, the weight of the world on our marriage from circumstances surrounding my failing health and maintaining our very complicated, nuclear family. But I couldn’t. Because I can’t drive. The feelings of being stuck, trapped as I was in my prior, very abusive marriage all flooded in and I got manic. I had to leave. I had to go.
I packed a bag. I got online and started looking for airfare. It didn’t matter where so long as someone I knew lived there and would let me crash. Being that I have these type of friends and relationships stretched across the country, there was an overwhelming number of choices. I settled on somewhere that would let me soak in some energy from the sun. Florida. Made a couple of phone calls, was about to book the airline ticket and call for a cab when I stopped. I stepped outside and sat on the frozen concrete patio as a way of grounding myself and tried to hold on.
I didn’t buy the ticket. I just asked my husband to give me some space to clear my head. Asked my parents to take the kids for the weekend. Booked dogs at the kennel. Made sure the kitty had enough food and water. Husband made plans to stay the weekend at a friend’s house. I booked a hotel room to breathe in neutral air not surrounded by our life.
I don’t drink very often but I just didn’t want to feel the feelings…the mania, so Friday night I drank alone. A Lot. It was a sweet surrender to an oblivion where the ugliness had been ripped away. I listened to ‘Chandelier’ on repeat:
“123, 123, Drink…
Help me Im holding for dear life…wont look down, wont my eyes…Im just holding on for tonight, on for tonight, on for tonight”
Sometime after midnight the high school ex began to text me. There wasn’t really a lot to say between us. Mostly just consisted of him making fun of my horrible texting which I couldn’t even make sense of the next morning. I know he has a live-in girlfriend and had company visiting from out-of-town so I inquired where everybody had disappeared to, he replied bed, I said: “So you’re basically a weirdo drinking in your garage alone”.
The guy lost his mind. Apparently that statement was rude and meant that I “needed to learn some manners” because he was only up talking to me “as a favor” to me. At first, I thought he was kidding. Then I was even a little pissed off considering the benefit of the doubt Id extended to his drunk texting the night prior. Even sober the next morning, I couldn’t understand the hostility. I mean his friends and girlfriend had no idea he was texting someone on his phone.
First, in my mind, roles reversed, one of my friends would’ve been like, “Hey weirdo! What the hell are you doing out in the garage by yourself?” Right? We would’ve laughed about it. HSEx was having none of it. Took it as a serious insult. His harshness, but more so the alcohol, brought me to tears. I couldn’t believe what I was reading. That he would think I was the type of person who would just randomly insult somebody who was “doing me a favor” just … hurt. I felt like after some 3 years together and what I thought was nearly 20 years of knowing each other, he didn’t know me at all. Hell, for that matter, did anyone?
In the hours after ending the back and forth with him, which I can only conclude had more to do with him than me since it was SO out of proportion, I just cried and cried and cried some more. Sobbed, really. I hurt so bad emotionally that I actually felt physical pain. After I was all cried out a really beautiful thing occurred to me though. It really doesn’t matter if anybody else understands me because I do. I know who I am. For everything I’ve been through in my life this is a huge revelation. And the only person I wanted to share it with, the person I knew who would value it most, was my husband.
By this time it was nearly time for the sun to come up. I took a nap and then got up with a new resolve. Took a shower. Washed everything from the night before away and got my game face on. I sat down and wrote out the problems, well, their more just heavy circumstance, that are affecting my marriage and where I thought I needed to apply more grace. Then I just made an offer to my husband to come meet me at the hotel, neutral ground, to talk this all out. I didn’t care if it meant we used the room to stay up all night and fight it out until we made sense of it all. If that’s what we needed to do, so be it.
This is where I’ll get lazy with this post and just conclude with saying that he did opt in, we had a very long talk about EVERYTHING and I think he finally heard me. Only time will really tell though.
We shall see.