Yeah, there's something going on. I'm fine, my folks are fine, Maggie's fine. I spent a long time tonight trying to compose a post, but I'm just so confused about the whole thing that I can't quite put it into words.
It's one of those occasions in which something is so unreal that I don't really know what to do with it. I keep saying, yeah, yeah, I'm fine, because, well, I am, but mostly because, there just aren't words. I keep trying not to tell people, because that's what I do, I just go on quietly when my life is falling apart. Actually, a number of bad things have happened to the people around me lately, and it's definitely taken its toll on me, but only a few close people know anything about it. I'm always "fine."
Truth is, I'm not sure I know how to let myself be not fine.
I got into a little tiff with Scott this morning. I walked in, ridiculously early, as always, and was bantering with him and Sonia for a while (they were the overnight call team). And we were talking about this patient we all know a little better than we'd like to, and he makes this sarcastic comment about a subject which is sort of a running thing between us. It was standard fare; we've debated this rather jocularly on multiple occasions. Unfortunately, this just happens to be the topic related to the recent badness in my life.
So today there was no joking or debating. Today there was me, sniping, which wasn't fair. He didn't know that today was not the day to confront that. But instead of "Not now, man," what came out was, "Oh, you can fucking bite me."
He dropped it, we moved on, things lightened. And I felt bad about this all day. So I texted him before I left work and was like, I'm sorry. Here's why I snapped at you this morning. In truth, it was maybe 10% of the reason I actually snapped at him, but that was the best explanation I could give. He was like, I didn't even think of it as a snap. Figured you were tired. Really sorry I went there, and about what happened.
My first thought about that was, great, I love that I'm even blowing this out of proportion, that I (as always) made the assumption it was as bad outside my head as it was inside, but apparently I can't even let that kind of stuff show very much. My second thought was, God, I so incredibly HATE that I told him. That I let him see even that tiny crack of vulnerable and crazy. Hate hate hate.
But, it is what it is. And what it is, is that I'm way too defended.
I know this about myself. I know why it's there, and I'm not sure how to make it not so.
So tomorrow, when I don't have to be up at 5am after another night of tossing and turning, I'll have more to say about this. Meanwhile, I have some unsettling dreams waiting for me...but that's pretty much the same as every night.