I wouldn’t even know how to go about it anyway.

I spent some time tonight (exactly thirty-eight seconds) thinking about clicking “delete” on my last post. But then I thought why bother? Chances are you can still find it and read it and ponder all the secretive reasons I had for taking it down. And, the fact is, I don’t really want to delete it. I just want to clarify.

(Of course, I say that now on the day I’m starting to feel almost normal. Almost.)

I am not going to kill my husband. (Feel better?) In fact, the urge to do so wasn’t nearly as strong as say… the urge to just leave. To just get up and walk out on my marriage.

Not to keep quoting from the book and all, but…

“Increased activity on the right side of the deep limbic system if often associated with sadness, emotional withdrawal, anxiety, and repressed negative emotion. …right-side overactivitiy is more an internal problem.”

In other words, the last two weeks of my life. Internal. Meaning I’ve been incredibly quiet while obsessing about every little reason why we couldn’t stay together. Which is really a horrible way to spend even a fraction of a minute of your life.

Take a moment and imagine your spouse. (If applicable.) You love him or her, right? A lot? (At least, I hope so.) Now think about what it’d be like to wake up one morning feeling as if you’d burst into tears if they so much as touched you. Imagine what it’d be like to hear them coming through the front door after work and your first thought is please, not now. Or what it’d feel like to have your whole body go painfully rigid with refusal at a casual request to go somewhere. Imagine what it’d be like to break down and sob as you begin to dress because you feel too awful saying no again.

It’s intensely painful. Even when you’re mad and sad and frustrated and convinced that it’s over… it’s still a horrible feeling. One that eats at you until all that gnawing guilt is just one more emotion you can add to the rapidly building list while your world appears to be crumbling around you.

And, eventually, the only thing you can do is cry to keep from screaming or, worse, acting on all those horrible thoughts.

Yes, everything is magnified. All those little irritations that I never paid attention to before now make my skin crawl until I want to lock myself away in dark corner. I can’t help that. His flip-flips really do make me irrationally angry.

But all I can do at this point is try to recognize the problem and think positively. This isn’t going to last. We will find a solution. I won’t feel like this forever.

And I’m not going to kill my husband.

Promise.

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9 Responses to I wouldn’t even know how to go about it anyway.

  1. I'm glad you aren't going to kill your husband. And I really hope this internal battle will die a quick death, with you as the ultimate winner.

  2. Alias Mother says:

    I was going to comment on your post yesterday, but then I got distracted by shiny objects or something. But I wanted to say this: I also have pretty bad PMS, usually as exhibited by sudden and dramatic rage. Unlike you, I am clockwork regular. (When I'm not, you know, pregnant.) You know what? I still never made the connection. Every month I wondered why I am cracking up, losing my mind, and feeling like I want to beat my husband to a pulp. Then, suddenly, one day, I would get my period and I'd be like…oooh. Right. Every single month.So don't worry that you missed the connection. You know it now. And now, hopefully, you can find a way to moderate it.(Armchair diagnosis: like others, I recommend being careful with bc pills if you are on them. I was on one brand that turned me into a near-suicidal wreck. I switched to another for an unrelated reason and I realized that I wasn't insane after all. At least not insane in that particular way.)

  3. Anonymous says:

    I never thought that you were actually going to kill him. How is the positive thinking going because whenever people tell me to do that (like the book “the secret”) I just don't understand HOW to go about thinking positive when i'm so mad/ sad/ annoyed/ hurt or whatever. -L

  4. Gayle says:

    I'll second what Alias Mother said about bc pills. I had totally forgotten until I read her comment that the one time I tried them, I was in a horrible angry mood for the entire month I was on them. I told my doctor I just couldn't take that mood, and never tried them again. You're right, now that you know what the problem is, you can work to make things better. They will get better.

  5. My sister had terrible PMS. She got the bc pills and they gave her migranes. She switched to IUD and has seen some improvement. Good luck! If all else fails, eat chocolate…..that's what I do.

  6. MichelleSG says:

    Zoloft. Or maybe Xanex. It's a trial and error thing and they never know what works best for each individual. I'd do those before I'd go with the bc pills, those are crap. Oh and if you do kill your husband let me know. I'm an analytical chemist, I can clean a crime scene so it looks pristine.

  7. rory says:

    Miss Carol used to go through that but didn't want to medicate so it became progressively worse each month until she decided to have a hysterectomy several years ago.Completely cured her of wanting to kill me- kinda extreme, but it definitely worked.

  8. Violet says:

    As time goes on, I become more and more skeered of the Stephanie/MichelleSG duo.Just sayin'…

  9. I just totally relived many days of feeling completely overwhelmed and wanting my husband to just get out of the house and leave me alone, I still feel like that at times, especially with his current unemployment and job hunting… but let me tell you, zoloft is my best friend, and my second bestfriend is that adivan for the moments of THE WORLD IS COLLAPSING AND I CAN FEEL IT ALL COMING STRAIGHT DOWN ON ME…. But, I do love my husband as I am sure you do and eventually… at least sometimes, they do something right. There is nothing wrong with wanting time for yourself, it's perfectly acceptable to want time alone and not be grabbed at or touched by your husband. Or at least, that's what they tell me.

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