Annoyance Agitation Anger Anxiety

The four A club.
Annoyance. Agitation. Anger. Anxiety.
Emotions tend to run in a chain reaction for me. It always ends with anxiety.

No school again today. Fine.
Cold as fuck. Nothing I can do about it.
R texts at 11 p.m. wanting my presence at the shop today. Yeah, cos I can get a sitter on a second’s notice since the world revolves around him and his shop of broken stuff.
Not even 8 a.m., after being up with my kid bouncing off the walls,it’s 1 degree out and windy as hell…and he’s texting again demanding my presence.
I swear the man is so self absorbed he’s not even aware anything exists outside of busted stuff and his needs. I am here only to serve them at his leisure, of course.
By the third text asking WTF…I have decided I am NOT going in at all today. I don’t have a sitter. I don’t owe him shit. I EARNED the money for the car insurance with all the work I did breaking that laptop password.
So I started out annoyed.
He kept poking me with a stick.
I became agitated.
Another poke with a stick.
ANGRY.

And of course, because I am a decent human being and I do need good karma points…I’m anxious because while I believe I am 110% in the right here…Trying to talk to him about it will do no good at all and when I least expect it he is going to use this day as a reason to throw out terms like “parasitic”.
He’s such a fucking albatross.
And it’s all his own making.
He talks about how selfish, self absorbed, and non listening his wife is…(and he isn’t wrong)…
but he’s her male counterpart, only I’m the one he’s oppressing the way she oppresses him.
How can I not be irked as fuck?
This is just a merry go round, same outcome every single time, and no amount of reasoning reaches him. Yet he spouts all this logic shit when he has no ability to grasp any logic that isn’t self serving.

It’s so simple from an outside point of view. He makes unreasonable demands of me, affects my mental health negatively, so I should cut away the driftwood.
Yet from my side of the fence, what with being wonky in the brain and unhireable, this is the one way to make sure I can provide for my child. It’s a barter system rather than a paycheck but it’s necessity. Necessity with so much grief it should include a valium as a work tool.

I rant, I vent, I…feel trapped. If ANYONE else in this fucking armpit town would throw me a bone, even if cleaning toilets or scooping cat boxes out, I wouldn’t be in this no win situation. Unfortunately, bipolar, especially undiagnosed and mis medicated for 12 years, lead to me burning most of the employment bridges in this town. Not many options left and my name on a resume or application is instantly synonymous with “unreliable.”
And I take responsibility, I own it. Though I think it’s a little like blaming someone with a broken leg for not winning a marathon. If you start out at a disadvantage and no accommodations are made…The end result is pretty much a given.
I digress. I fucked up. A lot.

And I suppose dealing with a self absorbed narcissist like R is my penance for my sins.
It wouldn’t be so damned bad if talking to him solve a damned thing. It never does. He just doesn’t get it and he’s not even vaguely aware of his unreasonable demands.
It’s cold enough they cancel school, yet he’s got no qualms expecting me to procure a sitter, drag my kid out in the cold, to serve his needs.
I remember when it was his kids and they were small, well, the world revolved around them and if you weren’t on board with that, you were persona non grata.
Now my child is my priority and he acts like I am a lazy flake.
I used to be an assistant manager with a store and they never once called me at nearly 11 pm demanding my presence then and there. And even if they did call at the last minute because someone called off, I had the right to decline because even they understood people gets days off for a reason, so they can plan a life.
R is just so off the reservation with his self absorption. Example: When mom was babysitting once, she called to tell me Spook had hurt her eye, I needed to come get her. He had the nerve to say, “Go get my beer before you pick her up.”
That’s pretty shitty.
But he’s the fine upstanding citizen and I am the lowly trailer trash who should totally be castigated and taken advantage of because I dared make bad choices in my past. Most of which I don’t think would have been made had my brain been chemically regulated properly.

You never live down your past. There are people determined to make sure you don’t. It’s their leverage. They can make you doubt yourself by using that past against you. Which is a little evil when you’ve done everything in your power to make amends. Maybe when he goes to church, he’s busy on his iphone and misses the part about forgiveness.

I babble when the Four A cycle has run. Once the anxiety takes hold…I cycle back to the annoyance,agitation, and anger. More anxiety follows. I can’t seem to kick its ass and god knows I have tried everything short of shock therapy.
In many ways, I have a sort of obsessive compulsive brain. It’s akin to someone who has to wash their hands exactly five times, check the doorknob five times to make sure it’s locked. My brain insists on riding this cycle of emotions, seething, stewing…Eventually it will quiet down.
Only to start back up again.

This is honestly a bit of an anomaly for me. Usually my anxiety dies down to a quiet hiss during winter.
Maybe it really is outside stressors this time as opposed to generalized anxiety.
I just have this quid pro quo mind. You give, I give.
I like a fair playing field.
And I am not getting it in this situation with R.
In all fairness, my anxiety issues aren’t his fault.
But the way he continually sets off the triggers in spite of 15 years of being told about this perpetuating our issues…
The playing field is most certainly not level.
That will forever be a thorn in my paw.

And yes, I know, I whine and bitch too much.
But this is my therapy and I won’t apologize.
Better venting it here than exploding on others. This way, I can mull it over, gauge my moods, anxieties, feelings, and reactions.
But for three years I have felt this unlevel playing field thing so I don’t think it’s some passing mood fancy.

So what am I gonna do about it?

I am gonna suck it up. I will bitch and vent to keep myself semi sane, but this isn’t about me as much as it is about doing what must be done to ensure my child has what she needs. If I am earning a car insurance payment at the shop, that’s fifty bucks for food, clothes, shelter, heat, for my daughter.
And for her well being, I’d suffer a dozen R’s.

Still wouldn’t turn down that valium,though.

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