Monday, June 18, 2018

Black and Purple

There have only been a couple of times when I lost it. I mean yelled, screamed, had an outer body experience and was "watching" myself from above, almost like it wasn't actually me. It's horrible,  upsetting, and beyond scary. This was one of those times.

I hated that it happened.  I punched her door (her very hard door) a few times and wound up walking around with a black and purple hand for over a week. Try explaining that to someone at work. I screamed at her about how good she has it--how I was there for her when she had no friends, showed her how to use freakin tampons, hung with her when she volunteered for Girls On The Run when I co-coached. I was SO angry!

I was more hurt.  Up until this point we had been close and talked about everything: friends, boys, family, sex, being gay, being straight, drugs, religion, life, love.  And now it felt like she hated me.

I screamed "This is where you get your anger from. So what am I supposed to do now, CUT??"  This is when she began to cry.

CRINGE for the entire situation.

Do I have regrets?  Maybe some.  Kayla and Kevin were both home and hiding out in their rooms. I can only imagine what they were thinking.  But I'm not sure what I was supposed to do. What would have been more appropriate?  It's always been my innate reaction to meet somebody's emotional/psychological state at their level.  It's instinctual. Maybe it's a self protection mechanism, but I'm not sure. Should I have been calm and supportive?  Sad and devastated?   Some people may have reacted that way, but for better or for worse, I did not.

It was what it was, I guess.

Thank you.

Us Too

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