According to my marriage shrink, my need for security is intensified by my past traumatic experiences. I’ve never really given that a lot of thought, but logically I suppose it makes sense. I know that I do really rely on routine and consistency, and when I don’t have that, I get really anxious.
This past weekend was really challenging for me. Typically I go to yoga class on Saturday and Sunday morning. However, the yoga studio I attend was offering a restorative class on Sunday night at 5 that I really wanted to attend. When I talked to my husband about it, he got annoyed about having to watch our daughter for all three classes. I said no, I wouldn’t go Sunday morning and Sunday night; just Sunday night. He was still annoyed. Ok, I said, I’ll skip Saturday and Sunday morning and just go Sunday night. He got pissy about it, but was eventually fine with that compromise.
Well, Sunday rolls around and we had planned to spend the day cleaning house and taking our daughter to see Santa. We got a good bit of the house cleaned, the toddler fed and dressed, and were ready to go by 2. We’re literally walking out the door when my husband asks me to go through the refrigerator and dump out any leftovers that aren’t good anymore. I looked at him in disbelief (as I have a toddler who is walking out the door to go see Santa – she’s been waiting all day)! I was so annoyed because while I was upstairs scrubbing the bathroom for an hour that morning, he was sitting downstairs playing on Facebook. He could’ve cleaned out the fridge then! And that’s exactly what I told him.
We get in the car to leave and he had decided he wasn’t going to speak to me. We went and saw Santa, which was nice. My daughter liked him better this year. And then we had to go to Target to pick up something to cook for dinner. Of course my husband didn’t want what I wanted to cook, so I said if he was going to cook it, then he could get whatever he wanted to cook. At this point, he still wasn’t talking to me. Actually, at Tatget, he walked a good 15 feet behind me and my daughter the entire time….I guess to prove a point? I’ve never really understood that. I’m so unbearable that you don’t even want to be associated with me in public? Of course in my head I’m thinking if I’m so horrible that you don’t want to be seen with me, I should kill myself because clearly I don’t deserve to even be on this earth.
On the way home I tried to talk to him about why he was so upset with me. He said I had been a total bitch all day. Ok. I apologize for getting upset about him wanting to clean the fridge out as we’re walking out to see Santa. He says it’s fine, and goes back to ignoring me. Finally, I said it. I couldn’t take it anymore. “Maybe when I get stressed out, instead of getting pissed at me, could you try to ask me what’s wrong or ask if there is anything you can do to help?”
Well he lost it on me. “Why would I want to help anyone who is being a bitch?!?!”
And this is reason number 52 why I can’t be vulnerable with you.
Being vulnerable sets you up for rejection.
I try so hard to be perfect and keep everything together, but sometimes I do get really stressed out, particularly when I’m late or afraid of being late, or when my routine is different. But it doesn’t matter how hard I try, I will never be perfect enough.