I went into the kitchen last night presumably to unload and load the dishwasher. In the process of this I started stewing over some comment. Or maybe it wasn't even a comment. It could have been something I made up in my head. Or maybe just an observation that I often enjoy reading on my bed when other people are in the living room... which I managed to turn into an accusatory attack on my moral fiber and my worth as a human being.
(Wow, writing this a day later it seems utterly bat$#!t.)
Then I looked around at the counters full of shash and felt Monster Guilt. And then engaged in Hypomanic Cleaning Hour. Not long enough to be called a mood episode, thank goodness. But with all the feelings that accompany the driven, irritable, unstoppable, obsessive behavior. And I figured that if I was goingt to have to deal with all this anxiety-fueled zizzing energy, I might as well put it to good use.
I cleaned until I was sweating up a storm and the countertops glistened and every dish was done and the floor was swept and mopped and the chaos that I had created was half-gone. I only got around to the West half of the kitchen.
When Spouse asked what was wrong, I didn't really have a good answer.
The one I made up on the spot was this:
I am angry that I am needy. Because when you are needy and clingy, you don't know if you are needED since you are always clinging to the person you hope needs you.
And I don't like feeling needy. Because needy people are not fun to be around. They can be a real drag. And I looked at the house and the stuff and the chaos and owned ALL OF IT and thought to myself, why WOULD anyone want to be around me.
Sure, they can love me and like me and think that I am the bees knees and all, but who wants to be NEAR this kind of mess. Honestly. Better to engage in a relationship through correspondence. And that is not really the kind of relationship that I want with Spouse.
This, of course, was an entirely manufactured issue. I do not actually own all of the mess. I am not really a liability to my family. Spouse does want to be near me and I am well aware that I am loved. I just need to learn to cut myself some fricken' slack.
Super glad that I talked to Spouse about what was upsetting to me even though it seemed really dumb and it was hard for me to come up with the words. When it feels like you are upset just because you are upset... or the reason got lost somewhere in the third sinkfull of dishes...
Grateful Crap: developing a vocabulary and a capacity for talking about things that are causing me stress in the moment-- and not days later when I am the only one who remembers.
took meds every day
gym or tap on most days
tea with parent
yellow glasses at night (I really like this... although the prescription is not quite right for close-up, so reading is difficult. Which means I go to sleep sooner, which is a fine thing.)
Quaker, teacher, parent,