Inside my head on this date

2-21-17

I want so much to be able to say to you before you or I go on, finally, to wherever it is that we go that I am not angry anymore. I wanted to say it today, when I was in the kitchen putting dishes away and thinking again how useless it all is. Useless to do the same things, the chores, the routines. I do them thinking, “If I just keep doing the same things, then things will at least stay the same. They won’t get any worse, right?”

No. Not right. I have to lower my expectations.

If I buy everything on the list, or if I get it all done by five, if I manage to get all the cleanup done and pillows arranged and meals cooked and fed and keep on top of all upcoming events…well, then I can rest and feel good about myself at the end of a day. That on just one day, finally, I got everything right. That I have made something better and not worse.

No, it will still get worse.

And worse is that you will hate me. You do hate me. Have hated me for some time. My tea, my talking, my listening to that stupid audio player, my going for bike rides, my always looking at old pictures, the dumb things I think, the salads I eat, the supplements I uselessly take, the garlic I put on everything, the stupid dogs that barked at you and made you cry. My complaining, my anger, my stubbornly not leaving the room or leaving you forever. My inability to change. And everything about me, ever. All of it.

I wanted to say that I’m not mad anymore, that I just feel sad now. But when I walked in the room, you told me that I had forgotten something and how it was so typical of me. Or something to that effect. And I stopped feeling sad and was mad again. But then sad, because I couldn’t even keep from getting mad after a whole afternoon of wearing out my emotions down to the empty after-feeling that sadness leaves. There was still anger waiting under it all. And I failed again.