It starts the same way every time. My day is planned out in
my head and somewhat on our family schedule. My kids are doing the “mommy can
you…” and the “mommy where is my…” as I am dressing, feeding and trying to keep
my offspring happy and content in the waking hours of each morning. While my
husband is either on his phone or the computer after he has showered and is
looking like he can take on the day. Asking for the 100th time what
my plans are for the day and what I need to do. I respond with irritation in my
voice because;
1.)
He knows I plan my day around his schedule as my
day can flex more.
2.)
I only
have told about 100 times my list of “to-do” involves planning them out around
the schedule he gave me.
My irritation deepens as I catch a glimpse of myself, puffy
eyes and bedhead hair tell tales of late night laundry and trying to play catch
up on house chores. The pit in my stomach tells me not to leave the house, for
this tired, puffy version of myself is not a sight for the public and I don’t
know if a chipper version of myself will emerge. This probably due to the fact
that I really can’t recall the last time I showered before my day starts or the
fact that I can’t hear my own thoughts. And the only ones that make it through
are the negative ones that seems to be the only ones that are loud enough to combat
the household noise.
My husband who is most likely on guard as he knows morning
and last minute changes that leave me scrambling are not my forte’. He either
informs me of something he forgot to tell me about the day, i.e. a meeting or
an appointment, which causes some brainstorming and revamping of the schedule
that took some time to coordinate and then asks what’s wrong dear?
That sounds the alarms and the gates are open. I hurl all
things that have been tucked away like a game of pet-peeve Tetris. I’m on level
10 of 10 with only one line left and that just lost me the game. I list off all
the ways I am feeling, including but not limited too; unappreciated, tired,
unkempt and most of all unheard.
You see the last feeling there, well that only appeared
after I looked and sifted through a lot of things I didn’t know was carrying
around. I didn’t know how to tell my husband that I felt unheard. I was talking
but I didn’t feel that I was being heard.
This carousal argument could have stopped years before but I didn’t know
how too calmly and rationally say “I feel like I am unheard” and this was in
many aspect of my life. I felt that things where not happening the way I wanted
them to or to my expectation of them and I was feeling powerless over them
because I felt that I wasn’t being heard.
Our life is so contingent on other people’s schedules; the
kids school, sports, work meeting and appointments. That it left very little
time to be able to carve out some adult conversation with my friends or a date
night with my husband. My exhausted brain couldn’t even fathom how to say I
needed some space and quite.
My life was
comparable to “kerplunk”, my marbles were being held up in a nest of carefully
place sticks. With every change, the taking of one stick, I didn’t know when they come crashing down and I
would lose the game. So, when the stick that lost the game was pulled I would
lose my marbles. Yelling was the only way that I like could be heard and listing
the reasons why everyone else was at fault but me.
Since unearthing this pattern of mine, I have tried to
change it but it hasn’t been easy. I’ve had to clean up the aftermath and fall
out. This consistent explosion had my husband suffering from PBD; Post Blow-up
Defence. It’s a “fool me once shame on you, fool me twice shame on me” kind of
thing. He was so used to my reaction to what he saw as trivial matters, that he
was already subconsciously on the defences, trying to decipher tones, body
language and auras. Even if there was nothing more than tiredness.
As I begin to clean-up the aftermath and I know that this
will be something that I will have to continually beware of, not only for my
marriage but for my children. It seems that role models of healthy marriage
seem to be few and far between. I want my girls and my son to know that they
have a voice and to find a partner that will support them in expressing it in a
way this is fostering of self-growth. I think this is one of the greatest
skills we can give our children, a voice and the means to use it so that people
around them will listen.
So to the mommies and I’m sure there are daddies too, out
there that feel unheard, please find your voice, you never know who is waiting
to listen to you or who has been all along.
Cheers,
CNDKwe
