Sunday, April 26, 2009

Puddled

Work pressure, allergies, hormones from hell, a birthday with a horrible number attached to it, the insanity of 'the thing' that is otherwise going on in my life + a single glass of Chardonnay all culminated in a mini-meltdown Friday night. For five days I felt like something had been pushing down on my head. Finally, I imploded.

I yelled at my husband and said terrible things to him. He sat there and took it.

I fell over in a puddle of myself on the sofa and laid there in a fetal position for 30 minutes, not saying anything. I then gathered myself up, went upstairs, took a quick shower and poured myself into bed.

We didn't talk anymore that night. He came to bed and didn't rouse me. The next morning he got up before I did and left the room. But he came back later and walked over, hugged me and kissed me on the forehead without saying a word. I knew all was forgiven and washed away in the puddle of the evening prior.

That's the lovely thing about being married to your best friend. Sometimes words are not necessary.

And the rest of the weekend was blissful.

3 comments:

SandDancer said...

Poor you, although it does sound like the release might have been what you needed in the short-term. Hope things improve soon.

Feet In The Earth said...

*hug*

M said...

Thanks all. I must say that the venting did seem to be therapeutic. I'm feeling better now, like I got some of the toxins out. I'm sorry it was aimed at him, although quite honestly some of the message was fitting...it's just that the delivery of it was poor. That's what happens when things just come pouring out like that.