I had a difficult weekend. It started about Friday night, and by Saturday, I couldn’t get out of bed. I felt this numbness that was draining all of the energy out of me. By Sunday morning, I was just crying and crying, not able to do anything at all. I managed to pull myself together enough to go to an Al-Anon meeting Sunday afternoon, where the crying started all over again.
What prompted all of this was my boss telling me that I had to go to Houston for a business trip. I just got back from a business trip, and I don’t want to be away from my son and wife.
But of course, it’s about more than that.
My birth experience was traumatic. I was diagnosed with preeclampsia, and was suppose to be on bed rest. I wasn’t even supposed to sit up. I really needed the people in my life to take care of me. But they couldn’t. They couldn’t because I have always taken care of them, and switching roles was outside of their conception. They couldn’t because they are self-centered. They are selfish. They couldn’t because they were raised in the exact same household I was, and they are fucked up too.
It was the most vulnerable time in my life, and I felt completely abandoned. It ended up with my sister and me getting in a screaming argument. This was very bad. The danger with preeclampsia is that your blood pressure is raised, so this stress was not ok. She left before my son was born. We haven’t spoken since.
I have been angry since then. It was as if something broke inside of me. A valve came off. I have been difficult to deal with.
It’s been really difficult to communicate to people exactly what I have been going through. I had a therapist, but she treated my unwillingness to put my son in daycare as pathology. I fired her and just ended up angrier.
I have been trying to communicate with my wife, but she’s got her own shit to deal with. Not even in my AA meetings, where I usually find refuge, do I feel that I have been able to convey what this has all meant to me.
And now, I find, when something happens that I don’t like, I don’t agree with, I find it really difficult to deal with it. I don’t want to go to Houston. In fact, I don’t want to be working at all. I hate the separation from my son. And I am a little fucking sick and tired of being so freaking functional. Look where it’s gotten me.
BTW – the fact that I can even write this means that I am feeling a little better. And yes, I am going to get some outside help.