I am trying to tell my self that you meant well. That you are trying to take care of me and that is why you just sent me up stairs like a toddler who split her milk and then made more of a mess just trying to clean it up then actually helping so you send her to her room.
That’s not what this is, right? You get that I am, although neurotic as all get out, still a fully functioning adult. I confided in you what I needed to happen and I asked for help and you just took off on what you thought would be the better plan. For someone who is neurotic and having a true panic attack that has been triggered by both situational and non-situational stimuli I needed a plan of attack. That’s why I made you the post it note. I needed help and that’s how you could help me. I need things to go a certain way so I don’t melt down in front of everyone.
I know you think everyone loves me, and that’s sweet. But that’s because most of these people have never seen me shaking, rocking backing and forth, sobbing, and not knowing what to do or how to help. Just think about how helpless you feel when I get that way and you know me better than anyone else.
Tomorrow is a big day filled with lots of triggers. It could go swimmingly, it could go to hell in a hand basket. My goal was going to be to prep tonight once you got up stairs after the “post-it note plan”. But now you have told me to go up stairs that you will handle everything, my life, my sanity, is in your hands. I don’t think you really wanted that, but that’s what happens when you decide that you can handle it all by yourself. We are a team. I maybe wrapped in bandages from HEAD to TOE but I am sill here.
But now I’m not. Now I’m gone. 3 sheets to the wind because I could not take it. I think you put Eli to bed with more care than me tonight. I imagine you will join me eventually wanting praise for how late you stayed up. I was here…Now I’m medicated, my windows are open and the storm is coming over the mountains. It’s going to be a big one!
(I’m not getting wet don’t worry!)