I try to keep my emotions in check, my mother was always flying off the handle (like the wicked witch of the west caught in a tornado!) and it scared the crap out of me as a kid…sometimes it still does.  It frightens me more though when I lose it.  It is very rare that the lid blows off of my composure and it usually takes a string of unfortunate events…likely combined with a health well-timed dose of premenstrual hormones…to pop my top but it happens and let me say when it does it is worth ducking for cover to avoid the shrapnel and the nails I am spitting.  The rage is rare but when it consumes me it takes on a life of its own and kicks my ass as well as the collective asses of anyone in its path.

The weekend was beautiful, the weather was perfect and I spent a fantastic day alone on Friday.  His highness left for work at 5am which left me on my own until 5pm when Trixie and her family arrived.  I read, I soaked up some much needed vitamin D and I even found a dose of bravado and took the dog swimming.  She’s pretty frickin’ cute when it comes to water, she loves it so much.  I asked her,

“Mika, you want to go for a walk?” she gave me a little tail wag and cocked her head. 

“You want a treat?”  Her head tilted the other direction but still not much reaction. 

“You want a belly rub?” 
Nothing. 

“You want to go swimming?”

She went apeshit.  By the time I got to the bottom of the driveway she was halfway to the water, stopping periodically to be sure I was still coming and not just teasing her with promises of dipping.  The water has come up quite a bit but it is still a good fifteen minute walk straight down and I really had to grow a pair of cojones to walk that far by myself.  I would be stupid to not be concerned about being alone in the middle of nowhere when it is bear season but my real fear is of snakes.  When my husband and I walk I keep him in front of me so that anything startling moves out of the way before I get there.  My hope was that the dog would at least warn me if not protect me from anything more menacing.  As long as I kept telling myself to ‘let it go’ I was ok.  The panic only began to set in when I crossed a small stream that was littered with ‘s’ shaped sticks.  I choked it back and ventured on.  It was a real moment for me, it took a lot more balls than I knew I had.  It was worth it to see my girl so happy frolicking in the surf, bounding into the lake and then rolling in the dirt and I swear she was smiling ear to ear.  I bet there is nothing that feels better to a black dog than a cool swim on a hot day and it made me happier than I can say to bring her even a piece of the kind of joy she brings me.

My bliss was short lived when my husband arrived with the news that he will be working all of twelve days this month.  We’re planning to use the time to get working  on the cabin but at some point we’ll need to buy more materials…and maybe pay our mortgage.  I’ve been told to watch the worry, it’s bad for my health but this is not as easy as it sounds…so I began to fret.

Cousin Barry made us a deal a few months ago, he said he’d deal with the disposal of the old trailer if we’d move the Bluebird Hilton (the bus) which is half on his property.  I did not know the bus was in his way and he said it never bothered him but we agreed to his terms only to return from the water creek to find him moving it on his own.  We intended to level the new parking spot and make room for it but Barry in his typical “gotta be a fucking cowboy” fashion decided he’d take matters into his own hands.  He towed the bus out of the place where it had been parked for over twenty years and backed it down our driveway.  He then hit the gas and drove straight for the shed that my husband built two years ago that is his pride and joy and at the last second he veered out of the way slingshotting the bus into the shed.  They had not bothered to move an old wood stove that was outside of the shed and this was both a blessing and a curse.  The stove slowed the bus down but it also hit hard enough to punch a hole into the wall of the shed.  I was pissed but I never said a word.  I seethed inside instead.

 Trixie is not a bad person and I love her like a sister but she can be pretentious and materialistic and whatever she wants she gets.  The only time we have ever really argued was when she told me she knew what it was like to be where we are financially.  She has no fucking idea and I made that abundantly clear.  Often she goes on her own rampages and she always gets her way.  She didn’t like their old travel trailer (and it was smaller than her neighbors) so she threw a fit until Harry took her to Cowtown and they returned with a brand new home away from home that was two feet longer than their neighbor’s.  It’s silly I know and it shows her insecurities having to have better than what everyone else has.  Usually I can blow it off as such but yesterday she decided she wanted a deck in front of her trailer at the lake.  In two hours she had exactly what she wanted.  She asked my husband for ‘help’ but since he was the only one who had any idea HOW to build a deck he pretty much did it all.  She scavenged the supplies (helping herself to some of our stuff though she promised to replace it) and sat back while our husbands did her bidding.  I don’t begrudge her a deck, she can have 47 decks for all I care, what irked me was that she pulled my husband off of his own project to do something for her…something that was of such import that it had to be done first.  She never even considered that he might have things of his own to do or for his wife that might be important too.  Maybe I am just jealous that I don’t always get what I want because I can’t ask for it.  I hate to bother, I hate to put anyone out so usually I do shit myself or forget about it.  Maybe if I was more assertive I’d get my way more often…and become a total cuntbag in the process?  I seethed a little more.

It was late by the time we got home.  My mom had offered to water my gardens for me while I was gone.  If I had known she would forget and blow it off with a shrug I would have had my husband give things a sprinkle before he came out Friday night.  I spent the next two hours hosing down my yard to ensure that all the work I put in to my gardens would not be thwarted by her negligence.  I was furious.

When I finally came inside the house…mosquito chewed, sunstroked, overtired and overhungry…I hit the shower and thought that that ten minutes would make everything else alright.  I dried off and fixed us some burgers for a quick dinner and went downstairs to watch the much anticipated season finale of LOST.  I had carefully set the VCR (who fucking uses a VCR anymore?  People on dial up without Tivo, that’s who!)  but the piece of shit did not tape.  It turns out that I had entered the wrong date.  I LOST it.  No pun intended.

I completely snapped.  The cheese slid right off of my cracker.  It was a total meltdown complete with tears and utterances of wanting to cash in my chips because why should I bother even trying when this life sucks so badly and everything always goes for shit no matter what we do.  Even though he was innocent in all of this (this time) I wanted to lash out at my husband and make him hurt like I was hurting.  I wasn’t lying when I said I was out of control and irrational.  

Fortunately many years ago I did some damage control and warned him that these days happen and he’d have to learn to roll with the punches and know that it was not about him no matter how hard the monster in me tried to make it his fault.  This loose wire is all mine and I am not proud of it but I claim in in its entirety.  He lets me lose my mind and despite the barrage of spite and venom that I spew he calmly waits for the storm to pass over and he comforts me when the rains fall.  I sobbed myself to sleep, his wet arms holding me tight.  I could not ask for a better man and I honestly feel I don’t deserve him… though i do believe he deserves better.  Either way I am beyond grateful for him.

As if these outbursts themselves weren’t bad enough on their own they leave me feeling hung over and exhausted the next day.  I sleep fitfully and usually wake with a headache and a sore body as the tension overcomes me.  I also wake with more than a little guilt and embarrassment over the way I behaved.  As this day comes to a close I am grateful that the beast is gone for the time being.  I wish the bitch would stay away forever, she makes Godzilla seem charming.  For now at least I can return to being myself and make amends to His sweet Highness for forgiving the monster in me and for being my stability, my reason, my white knight and my tissue when she strikes.