So last night was one of those nights where everything was just...awful. We had been away for the entire weekend, and when we got home and I surveyed the state of disarray that our place had fallen into, something kind of...snapped. I was so incredibly angry at my dirty clothes that were just sitting in the laundry basket...how dare they not clean themselves? The nerve! And that crap all over the table? Why doesn't it file itself? Is that really asking too much? Sheesh.
I was trying to clean and was beginning to get more and more upset, what I was doing was more like throwing things than cleaning. I get this feeling in my chest that is similar to what I think drowning must feel like. So tight and constricted. I'm sure that had I looked in the mirror I would have had seen my hair sticking straight up and my eyes bugging out of my head.
The more I cleaned the more agitated I became, and I think I may have gone completely insane at one point. I cleaned the entire apartment (sans closet), all the while feeling like my chest was being flattened by an incredible weight. There are so many things I want to do and be, but one thing I am NOT is a good homemaker. I try to be, but I forget things, and I get so scared that I'll just screw it all up. I'm scared to throw stuff away because I am afraid I will do it wrong. Seriously, that sounds REALLY stupid in type, but I get panicky. What if I clean house, throw a bunch of stuff away, and find out tomorrow that I needed it? Things are the things that make me want to pull out my hair and run screaming down the street.
Not really on the hair thing, because then I would just be bald AND crazy and Matt would make me change my name to Brittney.
I went into the bedroom and he just gave me a big hug, and as I tried to explain why I felt so suffocated and incapable he just kind of looked at me. He doesn't understand, he wants to, but heck - I don't even really understand sometimes. All I could get out in between my tears was that I suck. He doesn't approve when I say things like that about myself. I just couldn't explain it, you know? I looked up from the bed I was sitting on, and saw the dining room chair that he had pulled over to his desk so he could sit at his computer because, hello, this crap wife never got a chair for her husband because she doesn't like chairs with wheels.
I, I just, I'm so awful Matt I never even got you a chair!! I should have gotten you a chair, even if it had wheels!! I blubbered through my tears.
This is about a chair? You have been really busy, I never got me a chair either you know.
No please, don't make excuses for me! -- Seriously, I think at that point I flopped backwards onto the bed. I AM SO DRAMATIC. Gah.
Without a word he kissed me, got up, cleaned up the mail, then went and organized the closet. I kid you not. The man organized the closet. I just...I don't deserve him.
*Oh, and in case you were worried, I'm fine this morning. It was just one of those nights.