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Monday, November 1, 2010
Ok. So I still can't let go of writing my thoughts down.
You know how the brain keeps self taking until you come to a conclusion that is 90% untrue? I know it is. It was just a bad day, lack of sleep, visit to the place that he hates, sick body, bad weather. The likes. My self talk led the whole episode to a whole new level. You get sleepy only when you're out with family. It's only once in a blue moon that I'd ask you for the favor of letting the family visit and you even had the privilege of resting in the room in privacy. I don't understand why you still got grouchy. You didn't say, how the freaking hell would I know you're hungry? Same goes for the freaking drama on the way to dinner... Silence, grouchy face, refusal to look at me, rejected my peck on the lips. Would you think it's something you did wrong if you were in my shoes??? Why would it be wrong for me to break at this freaking point? I think it's absolutely marveling that I had managed to endure the day till that point. Oh and I forgot to mention how he stared so hard at me when I put a toy into a half-clean bowl for Ian to play with. Level of respect for a spouse: zilch. Oh yes, I should've been grateful that you agreed to that visit. I should have been elated that you didn't flip when we found out that they weren't home. I was grateful for many things. But does that mean you have the liberty to throw that sour face at me the whole time? All I wanted was a nice weekend with you and the kids. Why can't I enjoy this like normal families do without the grouch? I'm so darn sick of it. Sometimes even painting a positive picture is tedious if the waves of negativity keep hitting you. Especially when I'm already standing on rocky grounds. Sometimes I even suspect that he's secretly trying to push me to the edge so that I'd break. This is my self talk. Look at how ridiculous the whole thing turned out to be in my head. Now you understand how dangerous it is for a woman to be left to her thoughts. Understanding it, doesn't mean you have to do anything. I get it. Doing nothing; is, after all, your prerogative. |