Disclaimer: This is legitimately from MY perspective, feels/thoughts and all. I understand how irrational some of it might seem to the outside world, and I’m fine with that.
The noise of Mars and Fluffybutt scratching at each other through The Boyfriend’s door jolts me awake. I’d been fending Comet off for half an hour and just managed to doze off again. I do a frustrated “pssssst!” and grab the squirt bottle of water, shooting a couple streams at Mars (yes, this is how to train a cat humanely – and I’ll die on that hill because it works). He scrambles away and all is settled. I set the bottle back on the headboard shelf and sigh deeply, glancing at the red clock numbers on my ceiling. 4:27 a.m. Ugh. For fuck’s sake.
I message The Boyfriend, “Did you get up in the night, love?”
“Hmm, not really. Why?”
“I thought you put the frame in front of the door, but it’s not lol” (We have a heavy frame we set in front of his door to prevent the Mars/Floof Scuffles)
“Oh, lol. No I forgot last night.”
“I’m going crazy, then lol” Seriously. I could swear that I’d seen it put up in front of the door last night when I’d gone downstairs to let The Turds out of the basement.
We exchanged more messages, when I suddenly felt a strong urge to get out of bed and go in his room for a short snuggle or Madam Barnacle sesh. I started to get a little giddy and smiled when I sent him, “Now I wanna do an invade.” Followed by a kissy face emoji. I waited, watching the typing dots wiggle, hoping he would approve.
He proceeded to talk about how his phone didn’t charge again last night. My heart sank a bit, but I snatched it back. He’d started typing pretty quickly, it’s understandable he wanted to finish his thoughts.
I responded to that with, “Shit,” then a sad face. He’d started typing again, but I asked, “I no invade?”
More about the phone charging stuff and how “someone” must’ve returned the plug wrong, etc. Clutching my hope with gritted teeth at this point, fighting a losing battle in my heart. I responded quickly: “A mystery,” followed by a 😑 face (because at this point, it’s clear that he’s ignoring my Bid for Connected).
Another couple of messages admitting he was the one that did the oops with the charger and continuing those shenanigans until he finally did an actual reply to my, “I no invade?” with, ” I am about to get in the shower?” Yep. Heart dropped, hope obliterated, overwhelming feelings of rejection activated. One might ponder how I can have such a visceral reaction to this “minor” rejection, but I have experienced a lifetime of trauma (as I often repeat) regarding that and abandonment/neglect. I was handling that pretty well until the “October and Beyond” being dropped like a hot rock bullshit happened. So yeah, months of constant, both subtle and outright rejection from The Boyfriend caused a huge regression in that area… that’s how something a “small” as that incident can cause a massive reaction like this. And FFS, I’m trying not to, but it’s really fucking hard.
So, all I said in return was, “Right.” And that was it for me. I pressed the lock button and let my phone drop on the bed, fighting back tears, lamenting how I’m not even worth a TINY bit of his precious morning time for a couple minutes of cuddling/connection. I struggled to get up and get to the bathroom, letting Mars drink from the tub faucet while I sat on the toilet. I flushed, left the bathroom, and promptly turned back to let Batman get HIS drink. Heard The Boyfriend crack his door open for a moment – full petty ignore on my part – then close it again. Never mind that it took at LEAST 10 minutes from my “Right” response for him to get out of bed, peek out the door, and finally get INTO the shower. 🙄 Not a single moment to be had for showing your girlfriend you love her.
Some time during all that, he reacted to the “Right” with a 😥 – I saw it in my notifications and chose to ignore it (ok, ok… maybe I DO have some petty in me… sometimes). That followed with him cursing himself for not getting his clothes done last night. So, while letting The Turds (my 3 cats) go outside for their morning inspection adventures, I put his clothes on a warm-up cycle. Despite my own pain, I can still see and act on a need from my partner, that’s just what someone who gives a shit about someone else does. I broke out the, “When you feel hurt, do something nice for someone else.” tool I’d learned from Dr. Phil ages ago. Sometimes it works. This time it didn’t.
I tried really hard to treat The Turds with loving kindness, but I did get frustrated with Mars for being a defiant little shit that runs away when it’s time to do breakfast. I had to go outside and halfway around the house to snatch him up like the Little Prince he is and carry him downstairs. Unlike Mars and Batman, who willingly follow because “food.” While mashing the last can of urinary squishie (my term for wet food) nuggets for Mars, the plastic spoon broke and I almost lost my shit again. You know how you’re having a bad go of things and one smol incident makes you just stop and stare at the thing like, “That’s it. I’m just… fucking done…”?! Yeah. So I just put all the bowls down, threw the stupid spoon pieces in the trash, and went to sit on the steps (both to do my yoga block between the knees/hips movement thingy AND to watch so Comet the Food Whore wouldn’t snarf everyone else’s food).
I sighed as I heard The Boyfriend’s footsteps come to the basement stairway door. He opened it and I turned to look at him. He smiled and said hi all sweet and friendly. I said hi back (probly didn’t sound friendly) and turned back to face the cats. He asked how I was doing. I said, “I’m fine.” He may have murmured a “hmm” just before stepping in and closing the door. I stared flatly ahead as he came down the stairs to sit behind me.
He wrapped his arms around me and said, “Wanted to spend a little time with you, so I got done with everything early.”
I didn’t respond. I grew up with, “If you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything.” And my thoughts were not nice: “Translation: I felt guilty that you responded with ‘Right’ and ignored me after that, so now I’m trying to do something to make myself feel better about it.”
He asked if I’d seen his message, I responded with no, so he thanked me for putting his clothes on a cycle. Told him, “You’re welcome.” Despite having to get up a couple times for cat stuff, I sat back down and he continued to hold or touch me.
Thing is… my heart was already shattered and blown away like dust. It’s extremely difficult (nay, nearly impossible) to pull myself out of that state and accept any sort of attempt to “make up” for the overwhelming feelings of worthlessness and rejection. This reaction is a direct result of cPTSD and Betrayal Trauma. It doesn’t mean I don’t want the attempt to be made (not attempting it is far worse), but I don’t have the capacity to just “get over” something so utterly devastating so quickly.
And yes, I am aware of how extreme my reaction is and I fucking hate it. So, while I’m sitting there, wishing he’d Turned Toward my Bid for Connection and avoided this entire incident right out the gate (seriously, allowing me a couple minutes of connection isn’t that much of a horrible inconvenience, is it?!), I had to fight back the tears… these ones because – despite all that – I really wanted to feel the relief and warmth from that loving gesture of connection AFTER the pain, and I just… couldn’t. I apologized for being too sensitive and he seemed to struggle a little bit to tell me that it/I was ok.
I interrupted that by standing, saying sorry, and putting some crunchies (dry food) in the cat bowls. This was his cue to say he had to go, and hugged me as I stood a step below him. I love having my face on his chest/belly and really wanted to say fuck it and drag him to the bed and cry on him, but… I couldn’t handle the legitimate rejection he’d have had to give (he did have to leave for work).
Thus… I went up and sat at the top of the stairs, doing a whole Dissociate until Batman came up and I put him in my lap, taking the cuddles I desperately needed. He’s really good for that, honestly. He doesn’t resist being hugged and kissed on and I love that so much. It helped to bring me back and anchor me, even if it didn’t relieve the pain.
I did eventually get up and leave the basement stairway, moping hard while I fed and followed Fluffybutt around for our normal routine. What I wouldn’t give to be able to have her and my 3 cats get along so I don’t have to do this cat-swap shit any more. I think she would eventually learn just how great The Turds can be. Comet might be far younger than her, but if she gave her a chance, she’d get Spa Treatment (cleaned vigorously). A girl can daydream, right?!
And now… I must depart for the couch and proceed with calling Granny Sídhe (my best fren) whilst drinking my coffeh (which I’ve barely touched).
After that, probly gonna do a Valheim. I also have Art Group Trauma Therapy later this afternoon, which The Mom will pick me up and take me to. I think she enjoys being able to spend time with me, for some reason…
Who IS EnchiPants?! 