In a surprising turn (I scared the shit out of my husband and he, in turn scared the shit out of my mother) I got the whole entire day alone and I've gone into full on recluse mode. I have not interacted with anyone. I have no intention of interacting with anyone. In fact, I'd clean before I interact with anyone. (Hint: not doing that, either.) I do have a very fun little story coming for later, but I can do that when they're home again. Resolutions be damned, I've been waiting for this! Right now I'm going to hold onto every moment that I'm by myself, savor it, get drunk on it.
You never know when it will happen again.
Showing posts with label reclusiveness. Show all posts
Showing posts with label reclusiveness. Show all posts
Sunday, January 9, 2011
Saturday, January 8, 2011
I'm an unappreciative douche.
I've been grumpy this week. And bitchy and mean and impatient. I don't mean to be that way, it's just that I'm so itchy right now I would claw myself out of my skin for one day alone. Thing about me is that I need a lot of time to myself. I need it the way some people need alone time with their spouse or friends. I need it the way I need air or water. If I don't have enough time to myself, I don't process things and they keep bouncing around inside my skull until I'm half mad with them. Think I'm exaggerating? I'm not. I never write this much.
I really am itchy, too. I need some time alone so badly I can feel it and it makes me do stupid things like bite my nails and fingers and wrists. I've tried subtle hints. I've tried outright saying it. But since no one around me (my husband and parents) understands what I'm going through, they just think I'm being weird and melodramatic again. They love people and talking and being social. I love quiet and thinking, and this lack of that is shutting me down. My house is a disaster and it takes everything I have to so much as get in the shower. Maybe if I quit showering I'd stink so badly that everyone would leave. At this point, it's worth consideration.
In any case, between the husband's vacation and visiting family, I haven't had any significant time alone in my own home since before Christmas. He's back to work now, but by the time he goes in, I have maybe an hour or so before I need to go to bed. That or be exhausted and not really get what I need anyway. Last night he and the kid went to bed reasonably early and I thought I'd get a few good hours in, but nope--he woke up.
"Let's watch a movie!"
I wish I had a picture of my face. I thought about stabbing him, but I just went to bed, instead.
I can go out, but that's not really the same. Going out means I'm surrounded by other people. Sure, they're not talking to me, but they're there. The only people I want to be around are the ones who live in my computer. That's cool. Face to face? Not so much. Also, going out means I need to limit myself to socially acceptable activities. No talking to myself, no singing, no outbursts. No fun. No getting out everything I need to get out from the last month.
The final straw was that both my husband and my mother disappointed me this weekend. The husband was supposed to the kid to the movies yesterday. Cool. Including travel time, popcorn line, and previews, I thought I was looking at a good two hours. Maybe even two and a half. Then he decided he didn't want to go because she's already seen all the kids' movies that are showing. I pointed to the theater an hour away that was showing some My Little Pony extravaganza. "She hasn't seen that!" He definitely didn't take me up on that one. "Take her to see Tangled again," I suggested, "You know she'll sit through that." No luck. Instead he showered me with the worst words possible.
"Why don't I give you the money and you can take her?"
You. Asshole. Seriously? You really think that's what I'm saying? Guess so, 'cause he didn't take her. I ended up sitting at the supermarket for most of the day, alone, but not, and feeling very sorry for myself. At least she was really bad for him.
Then there's today. My mom was supposed to take her today, but now she's not. No real reason, she just doesn't feel up to it. Which in and of itself is fine--I know my mother (unlike my husband) owes me nothing in regards to watching my child, except that we've talked about it all week and she knew how excited I was. Guess it doesn't matter anyway, because my husband is awake and expecting me to cook and of course the good computer is all his.
Being so angry and frustrated over this makes me feel like the shittiest person alive. For one thing, it makes me distant. I desperately seek out ever minute, every second that I can be by myself. I avoid my family like they're lepers, ducking into the bathroom or kitchen or wherever I can. Douchy as he's been, my poor husband is really concerned about the state of my bowels. I can buy myself a good 15 minutes by pretending to poop. I've been a shitty mother and an even shittier wife, but this could have all been fixed by now if he'd just taken her to see a fucking movie.
The other thing is that I know there are so many people out there who miss their spouses or are lonely or would otherwise love to have my problem. And it makes me feel heartless and unappreciative. I really do love my family. I really do love having them around. But I really, really need some time to let everything inside of me out. Then I question if I really have a problem or if I'm just making something out of nothing. If I should just be happy to be surrounded by people who love me. The problem isn't them, it's me. Okay, fine, but the problem is there. If it wasn't, my ears wouldn't burn and sting every time I hear my name and my skin wouldn't crawl every time someone touches me. So yeah, selfish as it is, it is a problem. I wish I could be one of those people who loves being around others, but I'm 28 and it's never been that way. Instead, I'll just bitch here and hold out hope for next weekend. With any luck, I won't have exploded by then.
I really am itchy, too. I need some time alone so badly I can feel it and it makes me do stupid things like bite my nails and fingers and wrists. I've tried subtle hints. I've tried outright saying it. But since no one around me (my husband and parents) understands what I'm going through, they just think I'm being weird and melodramatic again. They love people and talking and being social. I love quiet and thinking, and this lack of that is shutting me down. My house is a disaster and it takes everything I have to so much as get in the shower. Maybe if I quit showering I'd stink so badly that everyone would leave. At this point, it's worth consideration.
In any case, between the husband's vacation and visiting family, I haven't had any significant time alone in my own home since before Christmas. He's back to work now, but by the time he goes in, I have maybe an hour or so before I need to go to bed. That or be exhausted and not really get what I need anyway. Last night he and the kid went to bed reasonably early and I thought I'd get a few good hours in, but nope--he woke up.
"Let's watch a movie!"
I wish I had a picture of my face. I thought about stabbing him, but I just went to bed, instead.
I can go out, but that's not really the same. Going out means I'm surrounded by other people. Sure, they're not talking to me, but they're there. The only people I want to be around are the ones who live in my computer. That's cool. Face to face? Not so much. Also, going out means I need to limit myself to socially acceptable activities. No talking to myself, no singing, no outbursts. No fun. No getting out everything I need to get out from the last month.
The final straw was that both my husband and my mother disappointed me this weekend. The husband was supposed to the kid to the movies yesterday. Cool. Including travel time, popcorn line, and previews, I thought I was looking at a good two hours. Maybe even two and a half. Then he decided he didn't want to go because she's already seen all the kids' movies that are showing. I pointed to the theater an hour away that was showing some My Little Pony extravaganza. "She hasn't seen that!" He definitely didn't take me up on that one. "Take her to see Tangled again," I suggested, "You know she'll sit through that." No luck. Instead he showered me with the worst words possible.
"Why don't I give you the money and you can take her?"
You. Asshole. Seriously? You really think that's what I'm saying? Guess so, 'cause he didn't take her. I ended up sitting at the supermarket for most of the day, alone, but not, and feeling very sorry for myself. At least she was really bad for him.
Then there's today. My mom was supposed to take her today, but now she's not. No real reason, she just doesn't feel up to it. Which in and of itself is fine--I know my mother (unlike my husband) owes me nothing in regards to watching my child, except that we've talked about it all week and she knew how excited I was. Guess it doesn't matter anyway, because my husband is awake and expecting me to cook and of course the good computer is all his.
Being so angry and frustrated over this makes me feel like the shittiest person alive. For one thing, it makes me distant. I desperately seek out ever minute, every second that I can be by myself. I avoid my family like they're lepers, ducking into the bathroom or kitchen or wherever I can. Douchy as he's been, my poor husband is really concerned about the state of my bowels. I can buy myself a good 15 minutes by pretending to poop. I've been a shitty mother and an even shittier wife, but this could have all been fixed by now if he'd just taken her to see a fucking movie.
The other thing is that I know there are so many people out there who miss their spouses or are lonely or would otherwise love to have my problem. And it makes me feel heartless and unappreciative. I really do love my family. I really do love having them around. But I really, really need some time to let everything inside of me out. Then I question if I really have a problem or if I'm just making something out of nothing. If I should just be happy to be surrounded by people who love me. The problem isn't them, it's me. Okay, fine, but the problem is there. If it wasn't, my ears wouldn't burn and sting every time I hear my name and my skin wouldn't crawl every time someone touches me. So yeah, selfish as it is, it is a problem. I wish I could be one of those people who loves being around others, but I'm 28 and it's never been that way. Instead, I'll just bitch here and hold out hope for next weekend. With any luck, I won't have exploded by then.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)