Fragile - Handle With Care

My morning wake up call set the tone for today. It was 3:44 am, and I knew I wasn’t going back to sleep anytime soon. I didn’t want to wake Aaron, so I tiptoed out of the bedroom and headed downstairs for some insomniac-vision. It was nearly pitch black as I ambled down the staircase. Three quarters of the way down, I slipped on Aaron’s leather jacket that had been laying on the stairs, and crashed to the floor. I landed on my right side, and lay there quietly moaning in pain. Aaron heard the commotion and was yelling out from the bedroom.

“What happened? Are you ok?”

“I fell,” I called back “ I’m having a hard time getting up.”

“Alli! What happened are you ok?!" he hollered, obviously unaware that I was trying to answer him. I called up again and he still didn’t hear me. Moments later I saw his shadow at the top of the stairs as he asked for the third time what was going on. In pain and frustrated, my voice dripped with sarcasm.

“I was doing fucking acrobatics on the staircase at 4am, what the hell do you think happened? I fell!” Aaron heard my tone and headed straight back to bed as I managed to pick myself up off the floor. I couldn’t stop the tears from streaming down my face. I was angry at myself for being such a bitch, but I was angry with him for not seeing it was a sign of hurt and helplessness. Any attempt at reconciliation was pointless at that hour, so I grabbed and icepack and laid down on the couch.

I laid awake long enough to half watch a Robert Downey Jr. movie and catch some of the morning headlines. I managed to fall back into a fitful sleep for about an hour. When I awoke, I could feel my right side throbbing from my fall onto the tile, and had a hunch that things with Aaron would continue to be tense. I talked myself in circles before he scolded me about overanalyzing everything and left for work. Shamefully, as I did in my teenaged years, I ran for my bedroom in tears feeling like a cunt.

I’m easily irritated and aggravated… Aaron has been commenting on my attitude often, and usually he’s right. Because of the way I speak to him sometimes, he wonders if I even like him anymore. And of course, that’s not it, not at all. Normally, we have our own little banter, but lately, I’ve been really sharp tongued- surprising myself with the venom that spews out of my mouth. And Aaron, who has endless patience is finally tired of my self absorbed, snippy behavior. He usually lets things I say slide right off his back, but he’s been calling me out as of late. The only thing I seem to know how to do is retaliate or challenge him, because I’m ashamed. That’s healthy.

Aaron and I are codependent, and we will be the first ones to admit it. It’s one of the many reasons we’re going for counseling. But it’s becoming clear to me that Aaron is the enabler, and I play the victim in our whole cycle. He claims he’s tired of ‘everything being about Alli,’ and while I don’t deny that I do take up a lot of his energy, he puts himself in the position where I am always his first priority. That is very sweet of him, but it’s also stifling us. He worries about me more than anything or anyone else. He tells me not to obsess, but does it himself. Just like he used to do with his beloved, ailing mother. I can’t help but think that we are both repeating family cycles…

He is like his father. The provider and nurturer who will do anything to try and make his wife smile. The strong stoic one who has a dry sense of humor and a quick mind. I am like my mother. Easily irritated and volatile. Yearning for change but afraid to jump off the spinning wheel for fear of where I’ll land. For years I have promised myself that I would break the cycle and NOT be like my mother. But when I take a long, hard look at myself as I am right now, I am more like her than I care to admit.

We are two broken souls, Aaron and I, with much in common. The difference between us is that he has given and I have taken for granted. I can say all day long what a great man he is, but unless I treat him that way consistently, we will continue to do battle in this passive aggressive manner. I am not proud of myself this morning. But calling my husband at work while the stock market is crashing to try and apologize will only irritate him. Besides, apologies mean nothing without actions to back them up. Feeling shitty does not give me the right to treat Aaron as my whipping boy.

Eating several slices of humble pie for breakfast.