Tantrums

The discussion was light, or so I thought. Until I mentioned that one thing that ignites his rage. 

Doesn’t matter what it is, does it? We all have it – that tender spot of unresolved emotion. There was no more talking to him, so I moved on; finishing a task I had previously started. But now my anger flared. He was completely overlooking my experience, my feelings. I couldn’t let it go.

“Why are you even with me, if this bothers you so?” I wanted to rant. ”I could just pack my things and leave.”

Of course, I didn’t say any of these things. It would be ridiculous to end everything over what clearly is an old hurt. It had nothing to do with me, and yet, it sure felt like it did. 

“Let me explain,” I tried again. ”I was just relating my experience. It wasn’t about you.”

His anger wasn’t ready to let up yet. He couldn’t see my side. I never know what to do in these moments, so I walked away. Gave him space.

We both smouldered for a while, until he came to me and reminded me he loves me. 

“I know,” I said. That is what makes it all so confusing.

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Permission to write, paint, and imagine are the gifts I gave myself when chronic illness hit - a fair exchange: being for doing. Relevance is an attitude. Humour essential.

15 thoughts on “Tantrums

  1. I’ve experienced this very thing so much. When his injured 12-year-old self takes charge of his brain, it’s too ugly. But I’m learning better ways to avoid a trigger and he’s getting counseling. Positive momentum for now!

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  2. Oh…the ‘smouldering for a while’…sometimes in separate corners. That’s good relationship advice right there. I love your use of the phrase ‘tender spots’. I think I have one or two of those with every person I love. Danger zones and it’s funny how we find ourselves in the midst of them in a flash. Not intending to ruffle. xo to you, VJ. 💕

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