Saturday

As promised, not only to you, but to myself, I am going to post about the events that took place on Saturday.


It actually started Friday night, and as you know I was in the hospital. I was afraid and lonely and my husband had no way to get to me. He had to stay home with our three children and had no vehicle. My mind told me it was the sensible thing to do. It didn't stop me from needing him though.

On the way home from the hosptial, the relative who had come to get pulled up to a four way stop and waited patiently for our turn. Before we could go, a young girl had slammed into the back of our car. Since I had just left the hospital, and there was no damage, it was agreed by all parties that we would just go our seperate ways, but still, it left me shaking pretty badly.

I came home and Chris doted on me. Tried to feed me, which, I did eat a bit, but, wasn't feeling very hungry so not as much as he would have liked me to eat. I fell asleep during the movie he had put in for me.

At four am, I woke up and was cold. I realized I didn't have any blankets and I shook Chris awake so he could fix the blankets for me while I went to the bathroom.

When I came back, he snapped at me for the stupid comment I made and told me to go back to sleep. Instead, I cried. I cried for almost an hour before dragging my miserable ass out of bed and to my computer. I wanted to write but I didn't have the words. I commented on a few of my regular reads and went back to my room and cried myself to sleep about seven am.

Chris did not wake me up. He let me sleep until I woke up all on my own. Even the children were quiet.

I don't know how the argument started. Or what it was about. That is not a way of getting out of telling you, it is the truth. I don't remember.

What I do remember is becoming so distraught that I began throwing things. Screaming and kicking my feet. Chris could only stand by helplessly while I threw what was a complete tantrum that would have rivaled any two year old.

It went on for hours. I scratched at my face. I screamed at the top of my lungs. I sobbed. I threatened to smash my four hundred dollar digital camera. I was somehow convinced that Chris wanted me to go away, that he wanted to lock me up.

His grandmother and cousin stopped by to take him to the store to get the medicines the hospital had prescribed for me. Even that didn’t calm me down.

I know that his cousin thought she was helping when she got up in my face and screamed “Look at me” but, at that moment, I nearly ripped her head off. Chris had pinned me against the supports for the kids’ bunk bed to keep me from smashing more stuff. I couldn’t really feel anything but the anger, the rage, and the overwhelming sadness.

I am deeply ashamed of what I did. I lashed out at those who love me most. I scared the shit out of my kids, not to mention the family members that stopped by during all of it.

When it was all said and done, Chris quietly asked me if I wanted to be checked into the hospital. I told him it was a decision he would have to make as I don’t trust myself anymore.

Obviously, he decided that the best place for me is right here at home. He has suggested however, that a therapist would help me. I don’t want to go to a therapist. In all my years of seeing them, they did not help me. I can’t see the point of paying for it. We have so many other things our money could be used for.

Instead I will continue to write here and try to find the answers within myself.