I decided that I would write this evening. Dealing with my personal issues is what this journal is for, afterall, and I am not about to allow another's feelings to impede this process. It is a positive coping mechanism for me, and this can only bode well for sorting through shit in my personal relationships.

So, my brief period at martyrdom is over. And I admit, I was being a martyr in the grand scheme of things; I was not totally immune to my mother's teachings, afterall. Nevertheless, seeing how ugly this can be through being on the receiving end from mommy dearest, I am getting better at not traversing that path.

I shall not sacrifice that which brings me joy for the sake of someone else's opinion. I shall not perpetrate the pain of Her words by causing suffering to myself. It places me the furthest removed from resolution. It is a pattern in my depression. It sinks me into a black and bottomless, narrow pit whose slick sides force me further down during my valiantly vain attempts to pull back up.

It isolates me from the one I love.

And, of course, yesterday's ugliness started over something completely mundane and downright stupid.

The Goddess has "phone issues". Some of it is related to her OCD, some of it to past abuse. However, she is not in the place anymore where she has to shut the world out, particularly when we have both caller ID, and a distinctive ring line reserved for those that are close to us. When friends and family bring their feelings about being ignored to my attention, it becomes an issue. When the issue perpetuates, I become annoyed. When it is still happening, I become angry and do stupid things, like answer the phone when it is a caller for her, even when she says she is incommunicado.

I just feel that if I am not proactive, I am enabling her.

Yesterday, Alyx called in the afternoon while I was at work to pass on the great news about his treatment. This was a call we were anticipating. However, The Goddess did not answer the phone. She was napping, but the phone was right beside her head. Upon arriving home, and checking the callers list, I noticed he called and suggested to Herself that she call him back while I went to the bathroom.

She refused, and returned to laying on the couch.

I then went to the phone upstairs, checked our voicemail, and Alyx had left one stating the news flash. I called for Herself to pick up the extension, the purpose being my wanting to play back the message for her. With anger and annoyance, she yelled, "Why", when I asked her to pick up the extension. So I told her to forget it. I figured that she would find out for herself when she was ready to, which is why I did not share the e-mail I posted from Alyx with her when I received it just after the voicemail he sent.

So early last evening Alyx called to pass on more detailed information, and to share in the joy more personally. I told him that The Goddess as yet did not know, and that it would be nice for him to tell her himself. She was out in the garden, and had a major attitude when I told her she was wanted on the phone. I did not tell who it was because I did not want to ruin the surprise. Apparently, she did not trust that I would be respectful of her phone issues after discussing my mistakes in the past.

She was pissed with me that I did not tell her of Alyx's news as soon as I found out. She was pissed with me when I did not tell her it was Alyx on the phone. I left to get her some chunky chicken soup because she was not feeling well, and a small bottle of vodka for me (since I had a feeling it was going to be one of those nights), and when I returned, she annoyedly stated that at some point soon, but not now, we needed to discuss what was happening over phone calls. On my way upstairs to post yesterday's entry, I stated that that was fine, but a simple solution would be that she answer the phone when someone calls.

She followed me upstairs, and began discussing the issue, seemingly forgetting that she stated it was going to be discussed later. When I reminded her of this, she exclaimed,

"Instead of sitting there and writing about what a bitch I am in your journal, why don't you come downstairs and talk to me about it."

That was it for me. The lines of communication were just downed by Hurricane Herself, and repair crews were not going to be available for a while.

I suggested she leave the room.

She came back a few minutes later to state that her "bitch" comment was referring to my Spin Cycle entry, one that Freda suggest she not read as it may hurt her feelings. However, I did not buy that then, and I do not buy it now. It had several connotations, and I believe she knows this whether she is willing to admit it or not. Otherwise, she would not have backtracked so expeditiously.

It implied that I portray her as a royal bitch in my writing. It suggested that all I do is write about what a bitch she is. It was a venomous dispursion about something that is very, very precious to me, something that ought to be immune from her temper tantrums.

I believe that people tend to be quite candid when they are angry, which is why I would never bring up anything that is so dear to her, so personal, when I am angered.

This is because I love her, and things that are stated can never be taken back. Nevertheless, this is not the first time that she has let her anger get the best of her and blabbed something that she later regretted but could not take back. And while I have forgiven her of these, it is difficult, almost impossible, to forget.

She had been so supportive and encouraging of my writing. I opened one of my greatest vunerabilities up to my soul mate, and all her positive, loving comments flew out the window in her heated anger because she cannot manage it, because she becomes so vicious when angry, regardless of whether or not the target is her lover, confidant, and best friend.

Who I am just does not seem to matter in the least when she feels scorned. And for this, I grieve, and am hurt deeply. Some of the lowest periods in our relationship have been over something she has said, and it just does not need to be so.

Ironically, and audaciously, it is my love for her that she questions all the time.

But the hysterical fit did not start until later in the evening, when I told her I did not want her reading my journal anymore. Her reaction leaves me bewildered still, for she rarely read it anyway, and what she did read was more often than not an entry I was proud of and printed off in hard copy.

She seemed to have also forgotten her promise not go into hysterics anymore since the last time she did and I almost left. She swore that she would either remove herself from the situation, or hear me when I told her that she was headed there. Last night, she did neither.

When Herself goes into hysterics, she seeks me out, says something even more miserable and spiteful than before, leaves, returns within five minutes, and repeats the process. All I can do is either sit there and say nothing, or leave. Since she usually starts the fit with, "You better know what you have done, I hope you know what you are doing, you really set it up this time, and to think I trusted you...", leaving seems to me like a trap that would serve to validate her irrational thoughts and insecurities.

So I stay, and last night, after her first tirade, she returned and threw all the amber jewellery I bought her at me, telling me to give it to someone I really love. Trickling down my torso and landing in my lap were the earrings, the bracelet, the small pendant, and then the large, teardrop one on its long, silver chain. They all glowed gold, the aeons trapped bits of bark casting shadows from the candle light emanating from the coffee table and sconces. That last piece I gave to her on our first Christmas together, back when we were dating. All were symbols of my deep love for her, our spiritual connection, both also aeons old. She stopmed back upstaris, and I put the jewellery in my late grandmother's wooden chest full of silver cutlery.

All the while, I said nothing.

Minutes later she returned, wanting the precious, priceless, pieces back. After heaves and sobs about how she was merely trying to demonstrate how much I hurt her, I retrieved it and cast it into her lap. I told her that I did not believe her, that she was acting out her anger, and that it will be a long time before I buy her jewellery again.

And regardless of how this gets resolved, I am going to follow through on that one.

She had a smoke, she drank water, she continued to sob. She returned upstairs, shooing Moo away, telling her to leave her alone. All Moo wanted to do was comfort her. She is The Goddess' pup afterall. She could not stand hearing Mummy crying on the other side of the bedroom door that was closed in her face. And The Goddess will have few more chances to do that before Moo becomes nonchalant about how she is feeling and not bother to seek her out to comfort her.

She comes back downstairs, still crying, me, still on the couch remaining silent. She demands to know why I am doing what I am doing, why I am so purpously continuing to wound her, and whether or not I realize that I really went off the deep end this time. She demands to know if I love her, over and over again. I broke her heart, she says. I ruined her trust in me, she claims.

The cycle continued another couple of times. Each time I suggest to her sternly that she is not being rational and the best thing for her is to go to bed. Each time, I become more wounded, more hurt, more withdrawn.

Eventually, she settled. I, however, left with all the feelings and baggage surrounding her hysterical fit, did not.

It was a long night, and it will be longer still before things are okay again.

 

Be Well