28 March 2013

Blazing row

Just had this huge, demonstrative, puffy faced red teary LOUD diatribe. I'd call it a row but G just stood there looking gormless. I haven't lost it like that in a decade, in fact, pardon me, I lost nothing, I was just so, so, what is the word,

angry disappointed let down frustrated betrayed belittled ignored.

He had been so

disdainful pig-ignorant selfish thoughtless self-involved.

I set about explaining to him how I felt in an "effusive and heartfelt" way which may have won a national poetry contest, if only breaking crockery and throwing away good food was part of the accepted stage act.

I love him. I love him to bits. I know right now I'm reciting that like some sort of dull dusty creed from an old book but I know that sometimes I really feel it. For example we know how to laugh together in a way that only people who have stuck together for twenty years have a hope of understanding. Except... except that wasn't just an example, that was it. All of it. We have a fondness and some good conversations, and occasionally a real belly busting laugh, especially when he's either home all week or away until the weekend, (not so much when like this week, he turns up and begins his down-time attitude half way through my work-week).

It all started because I couldn't keep my eyes open. At half five this evening I was falling asleep on the sofa, I asked him to let me rest for half an hour, to bring me a cup of tea if he was brewing one soon, and as he nodded I crept off to lie on the bed, fully clothed.  I slept hard and deep, although I never meant to, and he woke me a good two hours later, grumbling and complaining that he didn't know what we were all supposed to have for dinner.  I struggled to get up, waddled to the living room to find him already slumped back on the sofa in front of the TV and facing the door.

Did he make space?  Did he even sit up straight? Did he merely rush to continue his monologue? No, he looked at me like some sort of alien and asked me "What?"
"You wanted me to get up"
"No, I didn't want you"
"Okay. G'night."  I sloped off back to the bedroom, it being the only empty room and therefore the only one where I was certain of a relative welcome. Sleep was having none of it. Even somnus rejected me. Half an hour later I got back up to an empty house, a mess of a kitchen and a husband alone in front of his pre-recorded TV shows, slurping away at a bowl of soup. I explained my opinion of that outcome in an agile and impressively multi-sensory fashion. No. seriously. I was so disassociated that all I could do was watch myself go at it under a full head of steam, barely drawing breath, and be..... impressed.

See my kids may be young adults, but by that time they'd gone to bed of their own volition, hungry and incredibly early without being told that dinner wasn't going to happen, without being cajoled into eating a proper meal, without even being given free reign to forage for themselves. One went without. One saw his father's attitude and became compliant, insisted he also only wanted soup - his first meal of the day barring a scotch egg.

(G was actually proud that he had bought and brought home a pack of four scotch eggs, "one each for everybody!", and brought that up later in his own defence, which proved to be somewhat counter-productive. There there, good caveman. Take the spear next time)

It is good to get this written down.

Its good to look at the shame I refuse to wear; my mother's voice, albeit tiny and vaporous and far away, still ticking and tutting that 'You always cut your nose off to spite your face, you do', 'always have to make a mountain out of a mole hill', 'do love a good tantrum, madam, ought to be ashamed of yourself''.

It is good to read this over and realise it goes on to the page one way and comes off it another. I have a client whose partner became so frustrated with a sense of being unable to communicate, that they too resorted to the written word, specifically a scathing and hurtful email, which the client was then told to let me see. In my head I thought I was trying to appreciate both points of view, but how could I? Reading this back my own effort is obviously one sided although as I wrote, or more specifically as the words bypassed my brain and dripped off my fingertips faster than I could type even in a fury, as the virtual blood hit the virtual page, I did actually believe I was portraying the truth with a laudable sense of self restraint and equanimity. I thought my vision was not just clear, but complete. My client's partner is no longer so easy to dismiss as meaning things to have gone onto their own page the way they came back off them in the middle of a therapy session.

This week I have seen three or four clients. One, as above, was presenting like a rabbit in headlights, blindsided by the sudden announcement that what they see as happy-ever-after-land their partner claims to see as heartrendingly inadequate. Another, a single woman, thought she feared loneliness only to realise she was really afraid of her own power, of blinding the world with  the amazing truth of who she really is instead of forever trying to fit the mould prescribed by the next interested male. She did the whole Cinderella turnaround in one session.  Then in the middle of the week I also had a transformative CPD session with Benita and went into the future matrix to see who I really choose to be / who I really am.

I say all this because its very possible that borrowed benefits, by which I mean shared clearing of personal misconceptions  through all these similar sessions this week, have brought me to a place where my world is shifting into something truly amazing, just fast enough to be looking a bit like an earthquake as it does. Tectonic spiritual shift. Or suchlike.

Then again it may be possible that I went to these normally positive and proactive clients without setting my intentions or spiritual protections or worse, without plugging in to Spirit and allowing myself to channel (step out of ego) instead of working off my own resources, and that I have slowly taken on board issues and attitudes which are not truly mine.

What a wonderful, wonderful opportunity for growth and healing.

And now excuse me, I have to hug my husband and then go and lift a mixture of butter and glass from the kitchen lino before the cat can hurt herself.

Even though I'm,.... wow firecracker....... I completely love and accept myself.....

Good Night, God Bless

2 comments:

zilla said...

These are the days of miracle and wonder, indeed!

Doris said...

Now that's a journal and a half! x