Sometime over the weekend a negative headspace started descending upon me. At first I chalked it up to little things, like being away from home (we were visiting CBG’s dad and fiance). Or maybe it was the general atmosphere of teasing and poking that was going on between pretty much everyone. There was also the fact that I wasn’t feeling well, physically; I was experiencing some digestive issues that weren’t sitting with me well at all. So when I thought about it, it could have been any of those things, or all of them working against me together.
Despite wanting to get rid of that damn cactus suit, I still have it. Fortunately I don’t slip it on nearly as much as I used to, but I’m realizing this week that it still fits as well as it ever did. Like an old comfy sweater.
I woke up on Monday morning in full cactus-suit gear.
The thing about this cactus suit is that when I’m feeling this way, I’m basically just sitting and waiting for someone to poke at me. Anything for an excuse to lash out. I’m cranky, oversensitive, negative and defensive. I see the negative in everything. I don’t want to do anything. I just want to shut down, curl up in a ball, and wait for an excuse to take my foul-ness out on everyone. I turn into a spoiled brat who only wants to do what she wants to do. I know what I need to do to make myself feel better, but goddammit, you can’t make me.
I know what you’re thinking, and I’ll admit it: I’m not a very good person. Fairly shitty, in fact. I won’t go into full details about what my response is to that, but its basically something about how we’re all just shitty underneath it all anyhow.
I feel bad for CBG, who is forced to put up with me when I’m like this. When we were living apart it used to be that I would just withdraw for a few days, curl up, be shitty and miserable all by myself and eventually get over it. Now he gets to put up with me. He gets to crawl in bed beside me and have my turn my back to him because I just don’t want to be near anyone. I feel bad for him — no one deserves to live with someone like this.
I feel disappointed in myself, for feeling this way. That’s the worst, isn’t it? Feeling shitty and then feeling shitty about feeling shitty. But yet, this is where I am.