A Savage Fight

A Savage Fight

I feel hungover this morning but not from alcohol. From an awful fight last night with the husband. I had put our daughter to bed and come downstairs and he is watching the news, as per usual. A panelist gets done talking and my husband is practically spitting the words “Shut the fuck up you fat, ignorant bastard” at the tv. I had just sat down but immediately got up and walked into the kitchen muttering, “I don’t want to be around THAT energy.”

He seethes at me, “You don’t want this energy?!?  Is that what you said?!?”

“YES!” I hiss at him. I feel my pulse racing and I’m white hot angry at him. Does he not realize I’m exhausted and I just want a little peace and quiet?!?  Does he not realize how much any kind of negativity physically affects me?  

He’s up off the couch and his face is all twisted in rage. “So it’s OK for you to be in a shitty mood but you don’t want MY energy?!?  WELL FUCK OFF THEN!”

He spins on his heel and leaves the room which I fucking hate. It’s so dismissive. I call after him and he returns. The fighting continues up until the point where he threw something across the room and I screamed “GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE!”

Wait, how did we go from 0-1000 in like 5 seconds?!?  

He leaves. I’m shaking in anger. Then the sadness sets in and my body is wracked with sobs. I continue to get ready for bed because I still have to get up at 5am and I honestly have no idea if he’s coming back or not. 

How did we get here?  How are we at the point that we are screaming at each other over an insignificant news show?  What is going on with is?  Who have we become?

I have no answers. I lay in bed, shaking still. I don’t know if it’s leftover adrenaline or I’m just cold. I feel like I could throw up.  I won’t be sleeping anytime soon.

I text a simple “I’m sorry” to him. No response. I wait 15 minutes and then call. I’m  surprised when he picks up. “Two questions:  are you safe?” I ask quietly into the phone. Despite the fight, he’s still my best friend, my partner, the father of my child. 

“Yes.”

“Are you going to come home?”  I almost whisper. His anger seems gone but I’m scared to risk either one of us blowing up again. 

“Yes. Are you still mad?” He asks me. 

“No. Are you still mad?” I inquire while holding my breath for his response. 

“No.  I’m coming home.”

“Ok.”

He got home and we sat in the dark side by side talking. Trying to figure out what is going on. Trying to figure out how to fix our relationship. How to stop hurting one another. 

We talk about some ideas but there’s a sadness in both of us. I cry on and off. Bottom line we are struggling because we don’t have a village. No family here.  No real close friends that we can rely on. No one to help with the big job of parenting. No one to give us a break. We can’t be everything to each. It’s not possible and not healthy. We both chuckle as we agree that our dog is always there for us. At least we can agree on one thing. 

We head to bed, not because we’ve resolved anything, but because we are both exhausted and need rest before any more sleep is lost. 

Maybe today will be a better day.  Today is a new day. 

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