It’s almost like having a normal mood isn’t ok anymore. I know, that after 2 glasses of wine, that’s an exaggeration, and unfair. But it’s kind of how I feel sometimes, wine or not.
Take Friday 8 am ish.
Me ….(bearing in mind MrP has been up for awhile, walked the dog, just back. We haven’t been in near each other for an hour or so)…
Morning voice: “You ok?”
“Yeah, fine.” (‘Fine’ is a danger word in our house, admittedly so, from both of us.)
“So, you’re not ok?”
“Physically, I’m fine.”
“So, emotionally you’re not?”
A glance around from MrP, taking in that our youngest boy is nearby.
The look says, it’s not a discussion for now. He leaves for the gym.
I think he’s thinking about the previous morning’s discussion in front of the kids. We’d had a ‘conversation’ that ended with me in tears and our 14 year old daughter leaving for school without saying goodbye, which increased my tension, sadness and frustration by several very long miles.
Twenty-four hours later and this new, brief conversation, to me, sounds ominous. Gloom was there, and I’d be feeling it shortly too. Whatever conversation we are about to have, has me feeling like I’m approaching the cliff edge.
An hour and a half later, MrP comes back from the gym.
I’m braced and wary. I’d thought of other things, but it was hard to get my mind off of what was about to come.
He’s normal, calm. I ask him about our earlier conversation about his emotions. Do we need to talk something through?
‘Nooo…. that wasn’t emotional about us, it was emotional about work.’
Silly me! So, why the look around at our son, why the look that we couldn’t talk about this in front of the kids, why didn’t you say you were worried about work?
Frankly, I was cross with myself.
I felt enormously frustrated and sad that I’d let my morning get taken over with fear of troubles and sadness and arguments and groundhog days – over nothing. I need to get this new situation and my reaction under control.
But that’s the (dull) knife edge we live on at the moment. You just never know when a hijack will happen. And ridiculously, they always take me by surprise. It’s not a bomb going off, it’s a slow gas that starts poisoning the air.
It’s almost like if we could politely dodge it… just move away from the moment, slip away from a question MrP wants to ask or a mood that takes over for a minute; then the mood-hijack doesn’t need to happen. It’s my responsibility to pull us both to safety.
But I’m weak and worn down. I tend to jump each and every time it starts. We are dangerous to each other right now. I should be stronger and know not to rise to it. I need to get on top of that.
So Saturday night … MrP had some great stuff happen at work last week and we decided to push the boat out and have a meal out (a once regular occurrence that we can no longer afford, nor do we know how to deal with, conversationally). The evening was good, really good. Not one hairy word, just husband and wife nattering over a dinner table. It’s been months since we achieved this. No hidden meanings in conversations, no starting of a topic that would end up in an awkward place. Just nattering. We were calm.
Until we got a few step from our front door at the end of the evening. The hijack happened.
A question, innocent at first, but which we both know would turn to something not so innocent, and full of things we just can’t answer yet. Things we both feel pressured and saddened by.
MrP has now gone to bed. I am writing this blog. We are both frustrated and sad. Again.