Emotional Trifecta

Anger, Fear and…hysterical laughing

Seriously, what is wrong with me?

OH WAIT, I know this one!!!

Yesterday I came home with such positive energy because a friend is donating socks to my tent city run and it was such a pleasant surprise. No sooner than I posted and got dinner, the phone rang.

My son’s dad was calling to tell me he thinks he can’t afford to pay his 60% of our sons private school tuition anymore.

HELLO ANGER!

time out…before you judge me for the private school, my son was not able to function in public school. Private school was our only hope of getting him through school…which is working as he is now 15 and doing well

OK, where were we….ah yes, ANGER!

During the call, I was so calm and cool it would have impressed mother Teresa! I was able to put a lid on my emotions just long enough to get off that phone.  Then I got tunnel vision rage. I won’t bore you with the details except to say he and his wife just returned home from yet another vacation.

In an effort to expel this venomous poison he injected me with, I sat down and wrote (typed) him like five different letters…one addressing each and every stupid piece of logic he tried to use for his reasoning on why our son should transfer to public school. Of course when I was done I deleted them all, as I always do. Then I proceeded to yell at the kitchen stoves overhead light for the next 45 minutes, while making food for my kiddo. (don’t worry, I never do this in front of the kiddo. He was upstairs behind closed doors, with headphones on, talking to friends on the computer.)

Then I tried to distract myself with TV for a few hours, but had to keep rewinding the program because I would zone out in angry thought and lose track of what was happening. Deciding this was utterly pointless I called it a night. I had some wine and went to bed and lay there for hours tossing and turning. My thoughts slowly defusing and after a while, anger melted into fear. Fear that he could do this to our son, just 3 years before we reach the finish line. Fear of what this threatens to do to our son.  Will our son adjust or will all my worst fears be realized.

As I lay there contemplating, my son comes into my room. It’s after 1 am and I ask him if he is OK. He has his I-pad and charger, which tells me he is staying. He says nothing which tells me he is not OK. He hasn’t stayed in my room in YEARS. He sleeps downstairs during bad weather, but would rather be on the couch than in my room.

He lays down next to me and his silence tells me he unable to articulate what is going on in his mind. Fear goes into overdrive as I remember the fact that we are on day 2 of adjusting his medications. He didn’t seem phased on day 1, or earlier today, so I guess I let my guard down and assumed we were going to sail through it this time, but alas, there will be no sailing for us.

I lay next to him for a bit and when he seems to have fallen asleep, I get up and check the house for any signs that something happened or any notes he may have left for me, as sometimes he can write what he can’t say. I’m relieved to find nothing. So I lay down again and accept that his anxiety must be in the red from the medicine change, and vow to keep a more watchful eye.

Just as I start to fall asleep, I realize that I am starting my monthly cycle. I get up and go into the bathroom. I have to open a new box of sanitary protection and I’m jolted by the smell of watermelon candy. I’ve never smelled that on feminine hygiene products before and I have no idea why, but I am overcome with hysterical laughter. I literally almost pee’d my pants, there were tears streaming down my face and I was completely out of breath before I finally pulled it together. I was desperately trying to be quiet because the bathroom connects to the bedroom. I’m not sure how successful I was, but I did my best.

As I wash my hands I look in the mirror. I see this strange face looking back at me. I think she was wondering what drugs I had taken. I ignored her and went to bed.

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2 thoughts on “Emotional Trifecta

  1. Thanks for the compliment Pieces. That means a lot to me!

    I used to send the letters to him, but he is in sales and can spin any situation to make himself look like a saint and make me look crazy. Of course, I am, but that’s besides the point! 🙂 I sometimes take them to therapy (I go religiously every Friday) and read them there which helps.

    Like

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