I realized today that there was a significant part of me that had hoped I would be able to exorcise my demons and then never come back to this website – never need to think or feel in anyway the way I have as a child. I guess that was naive.
I hate holidays. I hate the tension, the necessity that everything be perfect, and everyone be happy with me. The inevitable failure and the feelings of worthlessness and guilt that I somehow ruined everyone’s holiday.
As an adult I know the error of that pattern of thinking, but I’m not all adult, now am I?
So this morning I wake up early and come downstairs to give my husband some peace. I consider waking him up for sex – but realize I don’t want it and I don’t feel like putting on a show – there will be time later. I take care of the dog. I make a cup of coffee and curl up to watch some tv. Working 60 hours a week is rough and I’m glad to have some alone time.
The trouble doesn’t start until my husband wakes up – very late – and wants to take the dog to the park. I know him. He can’t do it and be back in time for me and my family plans. But I can’t just tell him I need him to stay because I feel like I’m being mean to the dog. I let him go but not without stomping my feet and letting him know I’m pissed. Pissed that he’s so inconsiderate and careless of time.
Then I go to cook the cauliflower. I’ve made my self in charge of one thing this year, rather than the whole kit and kaboodle. I figure it’s kinder to myself – more manageable. I ask my husband to buy the supplies.
On the way to the kitchen I grab my Ipod, which has no charge. I blame my husband for having used it last and not anticipating my need.
Then I see it – the cauliflower sitting on the counter where it has not been refrigerated. Where my husband has left it out to spoil.
I wish I could say I handled this well, Instead my head went a million different directions about what a horrible selfish evil little man my husband is, how he loves the dog more than me, how I never get any help from anyone. I call him to yell at him. I get his machine. I call him back. He offers to come back and I tell him there’s nothing he can do and hang up on him.
All the while another part of my personality system is taking over and calculating alternatives – searching the internet for broccoli recipes and pulling broccoli out of the freezer. Charging the Ipod. But I am running around my house slamming things, yelling and crying.
It is cauliflower. The only one who likes it is me. The only one who did not get what they want and acts like a spoiled brat is me. I tell myself I only get to eat it once a year, but I am 34 years old. I can have cauliflower whenever I damn well please. This is not a disaster of epic proportions. My husband did not sabotage me – cauliflower is not refrigerated in the store so why should it be in my house?
I know enough about CBT to know I need to pull back, calm down, correct the distorted thinking. My mother is dead. She will not hate me, abuse me, or freeze me out. My family prefers broccoli.
I will be ok.