Urdhva-Padmasana

It feels wonderful to be back to yoga!  There is a definite difference from when I would try to resume my practice while I was with Joth, an energy blockage of some type.  Although I was performing the asana, I was not living to honor my higher self.  I guess I can’t really explain that, but I didn’t feel like me, I guess.  Now, it’s wonderful!  I have time for reading, and yoga, and eating healthy food, and I live in a clean environment that doesn’t bind up all of my energy into knots of immobile anxiety, I have meditated, taken the kids places – my life is AMAZING.  How silly I was to think this would be hard.  I did all my grieving while I was still in the relationship.

 

This past weekend, I took the kids to the library and was delighted to discover that I could get a library card.  I had movies that I never returned to a library in Kent county about 5 years ago, but they apparently didn’t show up so I was good to go!  I am so grateful!  So, I checked out a Kino Macgregor book about Ashtanga with the primary series, Yoga Mala by Pattabhi Jois, and another Ashtanga yoga and meditation book.  I read them all during the weekend and went back last night and got The Essential Vedanta.  This is an acceptable new addiction.  ;D

 

There was a party at Elderberry and I do feel slight twinges of missing out, but I know in my heart that sacrificing a party to do fun things with my kids was the right move. They don’t stay young forever, and I don’t think they would have enjoyed an EDM festival.  Plus, I’m not quite ready to see Ashes just yet.  Other than the library, I also took the kids to the beach, Leila Arboretum, and Petco.  We were trying to find the Humane Society to drop off our volunteer applications, but it is not in my car’s GPS and I couldn’t remember where it was.  I got directions for next time, though.

 

I have been persistently trying, to no avail, to locate Ashtanga classes anywhere near me.  There are some in Grand Rapids.  Also, I girl I know on Facebook – a sweet, quirky artist with a baby that I connected with through mutual festy friends – strangely had reached out to me, of all people, suggesting maybe we could get a place together in GR.  This is serendipitous, because I wanted to move back but couldn’t see a way to do that with this car payment because I can’t afford rent anywhere.  I thought I was stuck.  But she said that we and this single dad she knows could pool resources and get a place, and I can really see this working out!  When I was trying to move to Elderberry, I applied for every job in a 25 mile radius of Bangor and got no responses.  NONE.  Just last Friday, I applied for a few jobs in Grand Rapids and have already heard back from THREE!!!!  I completed the aptitude testing for one of them at the library last night.

 

Grand Rapids has such a better spiritual community, yoga community, music scene, night life, parenting resources, EVERYTHING.  I never appreciated GR like I should have when I was there; I took all of that stuff for granted and didn’t use any of it.  I won’t make that mistake again, I’m going to live life to the fullest!  I’m 35, but I feel like my life is just beginning.  And in a way, it truly is.

 

I was thinking about that while doing yoga last night.  I always make these observations in yoga that apply to life.  I was thinking about how it has been so long since I did the primary series, so it’s like starting over brand new.  Except I don’t have to go ALL the way back to the beginning, because of muscle memory and such, plus I have the poses mostly memorized.  I compared that to starting over now, in my life.  I didn’t have to go all the way to rock bottom this time, there are things that I have learned and what I lost/forgot is coming back to me more quickly because I’ve done this before.  I know which mistakes to avoid and I remember the way back up the path, so it’s going faster and it’s easier.  Plus, I don’t get discouraged as easily because I remember a time I couldn’t do those poses and thought I never would, but I did.  So now, I take heart, because I know they will come and what I am capable of.

 

What I’m focusing on this week is Surya Namaskaras (5 of each), the standing postures, and the closing sequence, just so I can perfect it before adding the middle part.  I haven’t quite worked up to waking up at 5 am to do yoga, for now I’m doing it in the evening.  But I figure it’s better that than not at all.  I did wake up at 5 today and got to work by 7 AM, effortlessly, painlessly.  So that’s progress in the right direction.  Also, I’m burning hot!  I’m usually a cold person, and I’m in an air conditioned office, so I think I must have stoked some fire within.  I am excited.

Another New Beginning

 

 

Okay, well, I am out of work in 40 minutes and I haven’t posted in about 40 years.  Really, the only thing to do in times like these is start from where I am and let the gap forever be a mystery, somewhat like those 30 years of Jesus’ life.  Haha.

 

I can sum it up, I think.  Joth and I broke up, big shock.  Before I moved out, I briefly entered into a polyamorous relationship with Ashes, Marshall, and Holly during Boredomfest and spent every following weekend there until after Hoodilidoo.  There has been a lot of drama in the Elderberry/Willow family, some people are banned from Elderberry, some are banned from Willow.  Some people picked sides, some try to be neutral (which is what I have done, but some decided to side against me anyway since Ashes & Co live at Elderberry so I was Team Elderberry by association…hahaha). 

 

Tristan had some challenges, I decided to focus more on parenting and got out of the relationship because relationships suck up all of my energy.  Polyamory is fantastic though, and in a different time in my life and probably a different place, I can see that being the ideal situation for me.  For now, it’s the single yogi life, and I am not going to every single festival like I was before.  I love EDM festivals, but it’s a different energy and not as child-friendly, at least to me.  Next weekend is Bim’s Birthday Bash at Willow, and I am super sad but I can’t go because my parents’ 35^th wedding anniversary party is that Saturday and of course that takes priority.  It’s okay, though, because the following weekend is Peace Fest and I’m bringing both of the kids.  It will be fun!

 

Tristan and I live with Shyloh now and that is going pretty well, except she is very particular about her environment so we need to be very careful not to irritate her.  Overall, though, I’m grateful that she has allowed us into her space because I couldn’t afford rent anywhere without having to give up my car, and they’d still garnish my wages so in the end I’d pay for the car either way but if it got repossessed I wouldn’t have it.  I also pay her $50 a week to watch him, which isn’t much, but it’s all I can afford.  Once she finds a job, I can return the favor by watching Miika if she’s on a different shift than I am.

 

I’ve gotten back to yoga, as I always do, and feel drawn to more spiritual pursuits.  I have had a lot of time for self-reflection and honest assessment of my life, and for that I’m grateful.  Jewel is having some challenges and is in counseling to learn to cope with overwhelming emotions, which I can remember with all to painful clarity still from the time I was her age.  It was an emotional hell for me, so I do feel for her.  She’ll make her way through it, although the autism may add an extra element to her struggle which I can not relate to.  Still, though, adolescence is hard, no matter who you are.

 

Work is going well, I switched temp agencies in February and will be on this assignment until the end of the year.  I tried to find employment in the Bangor area because I intended to move to Elderberry and live there with my former partners, but nothing worked out and that was probably for a reason.  I’ve learned not to try to force things that don’t seem meant to work out.  I’m not sure what I’m going to do about school for Tristan, but I am actually considering home schooling since he had such a hard time last year and I had to leave work to pick him up so many times.  If I do, though, he will still definitely be socialized because those skills are important to develop now so he can carry that into adulthood.  He needs to know how to interact and communicate appropriately with peers and how to deal with people he doesn’t like.  I don’t really like my boss, but my livelihood depends on me tolerating her enough to get through a work day.

 

The last time I had Juju, we went to pet cats at the Humane Society and it was a giant hit with both kids so I filled out a volunteer application which we’ll bring with us tomorrow.  It feels good to find wholesome ways to spend our time rather than killing it in front of a device.  Tristan is grounded from electronics all summer because he pulled the fire alarm on the last day of school and we got a lovely visit that evening from a police officer.  Also, I could not fill his meds because I hadn’t submitted his redetermination for Medicaid by the deadline, and I hadn’t received that because I had moved and not yet informed DHS of my new address.  So, I had to reapply and to date, it is still pending.  Which means no meds, no counseling, nothing.  At first, it was horrible, but he is acclimating wonderfully and with the increased connection I have been giving him, he seems to be improving a lot.  We went to the beach last weekend, played Uno, watched jets, hot air balloons, and fireworks, had a couple movie nights in his fort with popcorn, ate lots of ice cream, etc.  Strengthening the parent/child connection through meaningful activities is more important than I can stress.  I wish more parents understood that.  I wish I did a long time ago.

 

I started reading this book by Dr. Shefali called The Awakened Family : A Revolution in Parenting.  It’s awesome, so far.  I left it at Joth’s and never got it back.  That’s okay, though, because there’s a horrible bed bug infestation over there and I don’t want to risk any of those nasty things hitching a ride to my blissfully bug-free bed, ever.  EVER.  I LOVE LIVING IN A CLEAN HOUSE WITHOUT BED BUGS!!!!  AMEN, HALLELUJA!!!! 

 

Okay, I have 20 minutes left and still haven’t filled out my timecard, so that’s all for now.  I’m going to try to post every Friday, at least through summ

Final Decision.

I have already left you in my mind.  My heart has no more room for you, you’ve been evicted and the doors are locked.  You have broken it for the last time, and I know what I am worth and what I deserve. 

 

Friday morning, while I was driving to work, I suddenly remembered that we had another option other than abortion – adoption.  I hadn’t thought about it because in my previous situation, Noe hadn’t been willing to consent which made the whole process more difficult and stressful.  But we, well if we agreed and did this together, how wonderful would that be?  I imagined us finding a loving gay couple who would be able to provide the life and opportunities our sure-to-be brilliant and gifted child would thrive from.  This being probably my last opportunity to give birth, I considered that I could turn it into a positive and a blessing into multiple lives with your cooperation.  Knowing the joy the parents would experience lifted my heart a little, and if I knew from the beginning that it was planned and I was in a role of surrogate, I would be even more emotionally prepared for the grief that would follow.  This seemed like a loving, selfless thing we could do together and I was excited to talk to you about it.

 

I came into work and sent you a message, “What do you think about adoption”?  You chastised me for “doing this over text”, although curiously the day before you hadn’t had any problem whatsoever discussing abortion over text.  I was confused, and apologized for stressing you out.  It was apparent that you didn’t have the same feeling about it as I did, so I backed off on the topic.  That night I laid in bed.  You were drinking.  I gagged a little and we talked about morning sickness.  You asked me about what I had messaged you earlier.  I hesitated.  Having serious discussions with you when you’re drinking is like walking through a minefield, and I was not sure that this was a smart idea.

 

I tried to reply in a nonchalant, lighthearted way.  I briefly touched on how when I was in my car and thought about it, it sounded like an idea worth discussing.  I mentioned a few of the reasons that I thought it would be worth considering, the joy it would bring to the parents.  You became agitated and I told you we didn’t have to talk about it right now.  I sensed danger and rolled over and said this was not a good time and we could talk about it the next day.  But you persisted.

 

You told me that you thought I had already decided on abortion.  I told you that I had, but it’s a complicated decision and I wanted to consider all viable options.  I hadn’t changed my mind, only decided to see what your thoughts and feelings were about adoption.  I wanted to decide together.  You became nasty, saying that you didn’t know what to do because the more you objected, the more I would want to do the opposite of what you wanted just to spite you.  You said something about it being my decision and I agreed.  Yes, it is my decision.  But I want to know your position and consider that too when I make it.  Ultimately it IS up to me, but I want your input. 

 

You seemed convinced that I was determined to find out what you wanted just so that I could do the opposite.  I was confused at the time, because when have I ever done that?  You’re the one who gives me things just to take them away.  You’re the one who, when asked nicely to clean up after yourself, shrugs and basically says fuck you and continues to leave your shit lying about to gather mold and maggots and attract bugs.  You seem to be constantly measuring just what would make me happy for the sole purpose of withholding it, or giving me the very opposite.  You’re the one who will give me snuggles one night, and when I try to use positive reinforcement and tell you how much I love it, and thank you for it profusely, and respond very positively – will, within the next few nights, refuse to let me even touch you.  Will call me a rapist for asking to hold your hand.  Only BECAUSE you know how much physical connection matters to me.  You’re the one who used to make out and sexually touch me until you could see that I was horny, then would sadistically switch gears and ask me if it was okay if we don’t have sex tonight, or if we could to this tomorrow.  Then you’d relish at my resulting frustration and use it as a reason to villainize me.  I had an expectation that you’d fuck me, and that makes me a rapist, and I think I own your body, other ridiculous shit.  You withhold sex and all physical affection only because you know I want it.  So who the hell are you to suggest that I am only asking your preference so I can deny it?  Project much?

 

When I told you about my adoption story with Sienna, I had in vulnerability and trust confided in you that the most hurtful thing people had said to me was, “I could never do that.”  As if to imply that they love their children so much more than I did, because they couldn’t give theirs up.  A backhanded compliment, as if to say they admire my heartlessness and lack of love to be able to do something so heartless that they themselves, in their superior parenting, could never bring themselves to do.  I know that what I did took MORE love than the average parent has for their baby.  To bring her into that situation, with Noe, and damn her to that existence….would that have been love?  That would have been selfishness.  That would have been focusing on ME and what I was comfortable with, putting the sacrifice on her.  I put it on me.  I disregarded my own wants and comfort to make the best decision for HER.  If you couldn’t have done that, you certainly can’t claim it’s because you’re a better human being.  It would indicate exactly the opposite.

 

Anyway, so remembering that, you drove that spear into my heart.  “I’m just not the type of person that could give my baby away.”  Really?  I had no words.  What was unsaid was even more toxic, the implication unforgivable.   You really went there.  I went silent, because this was officially danger zone conversation.  In my silence, you threw things and punched things in typical temper tantrum fashion.  I did not respond.  You stormed out of the room, banging the door and stomping down the hallway.  You really are the emotional equivalent of a five year old, I realize.  I feel so sorry for you.  After you finished you cigarette, you came back in and flopped yourself on the bed.  I stayed silent.

 

That’s when you said you would kill yourself if I didn’t have the abortion.  I remained silent.  You continued to mutter to yourself, making a show of psyching yourself up for suicide.  “You can do it, Joth.  It’s not that hard.  Come on, you need to just end it.  End it now.”  Etc. Etc.  Finally, I got tired of this obvious manipulation on your part and left the room and slept in the kids’ room.  The next day, you behaved as if it had never happened.  Just like the previous weekend when you had verbally abused me for daring to give your son the best birthday I could.  You’re dead to me.  There’s no loving you again.  I hate you for this and I’ll never forgive you.

So today, I made the appointment.  I’ll have the abortion, because I can’t go through that again trying to place a baby for adoption when the father won’t consent.  You’ll get what you wanted, but at what cost?  You’ve lost me forever.  And not because you wanted abortion.  I was okay with that too.  I was okay with having a civil, respectful discussion and coming to an agreement together.  I am NOT okay with the way you talked to me and tried to manipulate me into giving you what you wanted.  It wasn’t necessary and it wasn’t okay.  That was evil and wrong.

The Nightmare Continues

I can understand getting upset about something, losing your cool, and saying hurtful things in regards to the thing that upset you.  I can understand getting triggered by someone else insulting you or yelling at you, lashing out from a place of hurt.  Using hurtful words when a person does something that hurts you.  Not that it’s okay, but it’s at least understandable.  What I can not wrap my head around, however, is yelling at someone for the kind things they have done; reacting with anger to the kind things they say. 

 

When I scheduled hair appointments for Jewel and Tristan, I asked Austin if he wanted his hair cut, and he said no.  When the rescheduled appointments fell on his birthday, out of consideration for him realizing that sitting for an hour watching people get their hair cut probably wasn’t the most fun thing ever, I asked him if he would prefer to stay with his Grandma.  I stressed that whatever made him most happy was fine with me, it didn’t make a difference to me.  First he said he’d rather stay with his Grandma, I walked him downstairs and the door was locked, so he said he wanted to come with us and that was fine.  He did. 

 

I gave him first pick of the breakfast restaurant, bought him breakfast, chatted with him while Jewel and Tristan got their hair cut, took them all to a Chinese buffet to celebrate.  I kept checking in with him to make sure he was having a good birthday.  He was, and that was what mattered most to me.  I asked him what he wanted, he said he wanted stuff to build robots which was not something I had the knowledge to get at the time.  I told him I’d look it up and figure out what we needed. 

 

You got out of work, took me to work, picked me up from work and we came home and had cake and ice cream.  I started to tell Austin thank you for the cake, but realized the cake wasn’t actually from him but we were celebrating because of him and made a joke, “Thanks for being born so we could have cake!” It was a lighthearted joke, and Austin is well aware of the fact that I am grateful for his presence in so many more ways.  I don’t imagine that he thought for one second that the only reason I am glad he exists is because I got to eat cake.  Besides that, I never said OR implied that it was the ONLY reason I was glad he was born.  He’s a smart kid, I’m confident that he realizes that I can eat cake whenever I want anyway.

 

Fast forward to later when we’re lying in bed and I thought I heard you say something, you said you didn’t, I was sure I had heard something so you then used that opportunity to shred me into a thousand pieces, emotionally eviscerate me, shatter every feeling inside me.  I was hurt and confused.  I couldn’t understand why you would hurt me in that way, when I hadn’t done anything to you.  I hadn’t said anything mean that you could be reacting to.  I hadn’t done anything hurtful that you could be angry about.  I had spent the day with your son celebrating his birthday and for that I deserved to be torn apart? 

 

You spun everything to give it the most evil interpretation you could, starting with me giving Austin the choice whether he wanted to come or not.  You painted that as “trying to get rid of him”.  The previously scheduled haircut appointments you claimed I was “leaving Austin out” although I had specifically asked him if he wanted his haircut too, and he himself had chosen not to.  The haircuts were badly needed by Jewel AND Tristan, and I only have her every other weekend and had to reschedule once already, but you twisted that into “Getting MY kids presents on Austin’s birthday”.  !!  REALLY?  HAIR CUTS ARE NOT PRESENTS.  I had bought him a cookie the night before to surprise him with in the morning, neither Jewel nor Tristan got one.  When I woke him up to give it to him, I sang happy birthday and you yelled at me for singing it without you.  Even though we would sing it again with cake and ice cream and I knew it.  I was trying to show him love but instead I got treated like I should have known that no one is allowed to sing happy birthday without you, even if it isn’t when the candles are being blown out.  I wasn’t aware of this rule.  You left me sobbing, heartlessly leaving the room after throwing these accusations at me, throwing the good things I had done back at me after distorting them into crimes.  This is the worst I have ever felt with you.  I don’t know how someone who would do that could even love me.  I don’t believe you do.

NOPE.

You say all of a sudden “every day this week” I’ve been crazy, like you conveniently forgot what actually happened this week.  I didn’t forget.  Let me remind you.

• You got done with your training, came home, and I was upset that you had changed the password on the computer and I had no way to contact you.  I didn’t raise my voice, insult you, swear, or disrespect you.  I was just quiet.  You kept hinting that I should congratulate you for finishing your training, and I didn’t quite feel in the mood to give you the pats on the back that you were fishing for so I didn’t.  I said, regarding the computer, “Fine, I won’t use your stuff.”  YOU  filled in words I NEVER SAID, speaking on behalf of me, saying that I said you couldn’t use my stuff either.  Then you proceeded to react to the words that came out of YOUR mouth as if they were my own, threw a tantrum, drove off, sent me nasty messages saying that I don’t care about anyone but myself.  Stomping down the hallway, yelling, swearing, slamming doors.  You also woke me up several times, even though I was doing nothing but peacefully sleeping since I went to bed to avoid fighting with you.  And if I had woken YOU up….ha.  God only knows what would have happened, and it would have been MY fault, for waking you up.  But somehow your rules don’t apply to you, huh?  This day, I didn’t yell.  I didn’t swear.  I didn’t slam doors.
• The day the power went out, we were lying in bed next to each other and your headset was very loud, as always.  It is hard for me to sleep with noise, but because I didn’t want to set you off, I said nothing and just tried to cover my ear with the blanket.  You noticed and asked what was wrong.  I was afraid to tell you so I said don’t worry about it.  You insisted that I tell you, pretending that you wanted to know because you’d like to address it.  Yet, when I told you, you just got mad instead of compassionate.  I don’t feel that your intention in asking was ever out of concern for me, it seemed like trying to find a reason to be a jerk.  Again.  You turned the headset down and asked if that was better.  It wasn’t, but I said it was okay.  I made a remark about YOUR HEADSET, which you twisted into making it about you so you could excuse your righteous indignation at the imaginary insult.  I just said your headset was weird because most headsets are quiet to the people outside of them, because what’s the point of a headset if everyone else can hear what you’re listening to?  Not wanting to inconvenience you any further, I told you I would leave the room.  Before I even could, you decided to, using only one tiny blanket.  I never told you that you couldn’t have any blankets, nor had I planned on bringing them with me when I was going to leave the room.  You voluntarily chose to leave the room.  It was your decision to cover up in a tiny blanket.  You could have come back in when you were done listening to your pod cast, or grabbed another blanket, or grabbed ALL the blankets and I could have shared with Tristan.  But somehow I’m to blame for your ill-thought out decision, and you’re trying to make me feel guilty that you’re sick now because you were cold.  This day, I didn’t swear.  I didn’t yell.  I didn’t slam doors.
• We got an invitation in the mail to my cousin’s wedding in a month, and I remarked at how soon it was.  You decided to use that opportunity to remind me that (to you) it’s my fault that the wedding didn’t happen, and we could have done it in a month if only I hadn’t been stressing you out, totally unnecessary opportunity to try to guilt, shame, and blame me.  Besides that fact that it’s wildly inaccurate, I was the only one working and your mom didn’t give us the money she said she would, so there was no money at that time nor in the foreseeable future.  I was stressed because we were stuck, I was working 40 hours a week and couldn’t get overtime, and wedding plans couldn’t proceed without cash flow, and somehow to add insult to injury to this day you have continued to blame me and randomly throw in my face whenever the opportunity presents itself that you could have done it if only I hadn’t stressed you out.  Sure.  This day, I didn’t yell.  I didn’t swear.  I didn’t slam doors.
• The next day, we came home from Ema’s and took a nap.  We woke up and you wanted to have sex, we were playing around and having a good time (I thought) then, again, you decide that would be a great opportunity to guilt, blame, and shame me AGAIN.  You’re having some trouble getting an erection, which is fine, I don’t mention it.  If I had mentioned it, it would have been a reason for you to get upset and fight.  And it’s not a big deal.  It happens to everyone, I’m sure.  I have no desire to hurt your feelings so I decide to just go with the flow.  But then YOU mention it, and make sure to remind me that (like everything else that doesn’t work out for you) it’s, surprise, my fault again.  You make sure to tell me that you can’t get it up because of performance anxiety because of the times that I DID mention it, long ago, and then act all surprised when I’m not in the mood anymore.  By this time, I’ve been dealing with your barbs and your insults over and over and over without reacting.  But I’m starting to lose my patience.  And I feel like that’s what you want, because as soon as I react, you’re going to jump into victim mode and magically all of this will have been my fault.  But still, I didn’t yell, swear, or slam doors.
• Last night, you were listening to your headphones and I knew you weren’t feeling well so I decided to sleep in the kids’ room.  Later on, I woke up and figured you probably were done listening to your podcast so I came in and laid next to you, trying to help you feel better.  You were acting mad for some reason, but I brushed it off.  Then all of a sudden, you erupt at me like you’re trying to find any kind of reason to be angry, bringing shit up just to fight.  You said something about your fishing pole, yelling at ME and being nasty to ME even though it had nothing to do with me.  I told you I had handled that situation the way I should have, as well as the situation with Tristan’s chocolate milk, and I didn’t deserve your anger.  You apologized and then started in on me about something else, I think first it was about how you were sick which is in no way my fault at all and I am not taking the blame for your poor decisions.  THEN you started yelling and swearing about how I had dared “complain” as soon as you had come home the night before.  What I had asked you, in a calm and controlled tone, so as to avoid pissing you off yet again, was why some things on your Facebook were shared to all of your friends, and other things were not.  I hadn’t even noticed this until yesterday morning, when you asked if I had seen an article you had shared.  I hadn’t.  When I checked, it wasn’t even visible to me.  Some things were, though.  So I asked, gently, why you shared different things to different people.  You said you didn’t even know that had happened and I sat in absolute silence, terrified of saying the wrong thing.  Even though I was silent, you reacted with anger because you didn’t like the look on my face and you interpreted it to mean something offensive, although I was trying very hard to appear completely neutral.  So then, I looked down, so that my facial expressions couldn’t offend you either.  Yet somehow you still got triggered and angry, so I left the room to watch a comedy show because I didn’t know what else to do at that point that wouldn’t set you off.  So here, in the middle of the night, you’re yelling at me for that even though out of the two of us I had NOT been the mean or disrespectful one.  Then you storm out of the room, yelling and swearing. 
   
  Which I still at this point, HAVE NOT DONE.  You have noticed the tension building and I’ve been more reactive, letting out some of the steam in other situations, but never toward you.  You take this as an indication of my instability so you can blame everything you’ve done on me, because look, you’ve been acting emotional.  Look how you got upset at the Walmart lady, look how you got upset at your mom.  Obviously I’m the crazy one, right?  Wrong.  What you don’t see is all of the emotions I’ve been stuffing in through repeated incident after incident of your mistreatment of me.  Finally they start spilling out and you can’t even recognize why.
   
• I go in the other room, because I’m tired of being your verbal punching bag.  When I try to come back and talk to you, you have an irritated tone to your voice and I interpret that as an indication that you’re upset with me still.  Which, if that was an incorrect interpretation, I apologize for.  Still, though, I choose my tone and my words carefully and say to you in a kind tone, without raising my voice, without swearing, “I’m sorry that you’re not feeling well, but you don’t have to be cranky at me”.  And you (SURPRISE!) go off on me.  Again.  Somehow in this whirlwind of twisting, gaslighting, blaming, mental gymnastics and confusion, everything gets turned around on me.  I go OFF.  I FINALLY lose my cool, although YOU. HAVE. BEEN. DOING. IT. ALLLLL. FUCKING. WEEK.  Almost every day you’re poking, prodding, yelling, swearing, insulting, guilting, shaming.  I have done NONE of it.  And now that I finally go off, just like I predicted, magically everything you have done this week is my fault and I’m just as bad as you, because look, I’m swearing, and I’m yelling, and I’m slamming doors.  I AM NOT FALLING FOR YOUR MANIPULATIVE EVIL DIABOLICAL SHIT.  I know who you are.  I see what you are.  And you’re pathetic.