There is this dirty little secret about parenting and marriage no one ever tells you: This life is not always filled with fluffy kittens and balloons.
The other day, my husband and I were driving around doing our “buy the locus food and pay bills” thing, and, because of my attitude that we will ignore for argument's sake as I plead the fifth, we get into the conversation about how I am just a miserable person to be around sometimes. Of course, you know, because everyone else in the world is happy as a clam in butter sauce. It wasn’t news that he feels that way sometimes, and it wasn’t news that he was right, for the most part. The thought of rainbows and kittens flying out my ass left me years ago.
Image: Fractured Fairytales via Flickr
However, what he said, at that moment, cut me, which I know was not his intention. It still cut the same.
The husband is not one of “those guys”. He never sets out to hurt anyone, especially his wife. In fact he’s quite the opposite. He hates to fight; He would leap tall buildings in a single bound in a cape and tights just to stay out of a fight with me. I however, cannot take that high ground myself, not to mention you don’t want to see me in spandex. In reality, I can be a mean bitch and quite opinionated.
See, if he is in a bad mood, he sits and watches TV, ignoring the world around him. When I am in a bad mood, I turn into what I imagine seems like a raging drug addict on bath salts banging on her dealer's door. Moreover, until I work myself out of that mood, I need to hide so I don’t say something I really don’t mean. And lately, I have been hiding a lot.
See, no one ever tells you that sometimes, parenting is messed up.
Sometimes, marriage is messed up.
And sometimes…it’s hard not to be messed up yourself.
Before I had kids, I was a pretty happy person all of the time, or at least I like to think so. When my parents raised me and my sisters, I think I can count on one finger how many times I had heard my parents fight, and that was only because I got up to pee in the middle of the night. I still do not know how they had the self-control to keep it to themselves until we were asleep. However, despite how they did it, I think it did us a disservice. Once I was married, I felt like such a loser if the husband and I would fight, and boy did we fight.
We fought about everything, however it was mostly money or stupid things like him never being around because he was working his ass off. I was lonely, and scared our lives were always going to suck. It just shows the immaturity level I had at 18.
If I would get angry I would voice it, and loudly. I would snap so quick it would give you whiplash. Things were thrown, things would break, and then after the smoke and dust cleared one of us would apologize (usually me) and things would go back to our newlywed bliss.
It was seriously messed up.
It took years for us to calm down and understand each other, and to not take everything someone said and turn it into Armageddon. All seriousness was pretty much flying out the window, which was a good thing. I am still baffled about how we got through those first years, but we did, and I am grateful for it every day, even if it doesn't always seem that way.
Don’t get me wrong, it isn't always that blissful sky-opening-up-to-angels-singing kind of thing over here. There are no rainbows or unicorns, We still fight, and we fight loud, we just stopped breaking things when we finally realized we liked our stuff and did not want to spend the money on new stuff all the time. We also try not to say stuff that hurts the other person.
I also genuinely like spending time with him and hanging out. He’s my best friend, and someone who can deal with my up and down neurotic attitude that still plagues me to this day. Sometimes I actually think that 18 yr old self is trying to weasel her way back into my life, and I can’t let that happen. That chick is twisted, and should probably be put on meds.
But that comment... That comment was shitty. Not because he said it, but because he was right.
I am a pretty miserable person to be around sometimes. In part, I am tired. I’m waiting for the rollercoaster to slow down and let me off for a few minutes.
The husband still works a lot and is not home all that often, and after 19 years, I am still not used to it. That’s a good thing right? From what some women say, they would rather the husbands be gone more. Yet, I want mine around. I stay at home and try to keep the boys in line, but some days, like today, the kids win and I end up in the room crying and pissed off that I have no one here to takeover because it is at this moment I am losing my mind again.
At this moment, I feel defeated.
Is it rational? No, not really. Nevertheless, I still have that selfish moment where I want to get in my car and go hide from the world with a bottle of Grey Goose vodka and a box of truffles, if only for an hour or two.
No one ever tells you that sometimes you wake up and think, “Hmm… I really do not want to deal with the world today….and I REALLY do not want to deal with the argumentative teen who is way too much like his mama.”
No one tells you that sometimes being a parent can be really difficult, or that no matter how hard you try, it won’t always turn out the way you thought it would. No one tells you sometimes you will be miserable, and not know why. No one tells you there isn’t a magic pill that will fix your life when you feel like it is out of control, despite how many pills are there to fix everyone else.
No one tells you that you will feel like a failure more times than you will feel like you did it right. No one tells you that sometimes, when you fall, you would rather just stay on the ground for the day then try to get up. That sometimes you will be so angry you will shake all the way into your room before you say something you cannot take back.
That sometimes you will scream so loud you will lose your voice, yet no one will hear you.
You will feel bat shit crazy.
You will think everyone around you is bat shit crazy.
You will wonder if you can do anything right.
However, even after you start to recognize the warning signs that all of the above apply to you, they also do not tell you that it is okay that you feel this way sometimes.
That everything will pass, and you will look back and wonder why you made such a big deal about it. (I do this on a daily basis)
That sometimes you need to pop the balloons and shave the fluffy kittens to make a coat.
That as long as you have someone who is willing and understanding enough to wear the tights for you, you can get through anything, so just hang on.
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