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.