Last night, I fell asleep wearing the gray winter slacks and school shirt I wore to work yesterday. I didn’t mean to, but I didn’t want to get out of bed to change.
I was exhausted. I’ve been exhausted for a long time.
It hasn’t been the best week. I had a stitch pop through my abdominal scar line, and I had to pull the stitch. It hurt. One of my classes sometimes treats me like Kayne West treated Taylor Swift at the VMAs (Imma let you finish, but…), and this week has been full of “Imma let you finish, but…” moments. I rarely have classroom discipline issues, but this has been the week for them, apparently. Then, there’s here at home…
AJ hasn’t had the best week at school, either. He’s been in trouble at his school and on the bus. His mouth got ahead of his brain a few times this week. Parenting is hard (duh), and this week, parenting him has been challenging. We’ve done it, but man. I hate being the disciplinarian. Still, since A’s normally not home before 6:30 or 7:00, the discipline falls to me.
It’s been a busy week for A. He’s had some major presentations and meetings to do, and he has to work all day tomorrow. Yesterday, after a long day for him, he snapped at me enough that I’m still brooding over it. I told him a friend had posted an update on Facebook about one of her family members who has breast cancer, and before I could say anything else, he told me to just forget about it and go take a bath to relax.
It made me feel like I am a bother to people now…when I talk about how it makes me feel when I hear about others with breast cancer. It scares me. It angers me. It makes me remember this could come back and kill me at anytime. It makes me struggle.
It makes me sad.
I walked away from A last night after he told me to forget it, even though he didn’t know what the “it” was, and yelled, “No one ever lets me just talk. You want me to be over this. Your family wants me to be over this. My family wants me to be over this. You want me to be over breast cancer, to be over Trump, to be over everything and I’m not.”
A came to find me a little while later. He told me, “I deal with issue after issue after issue every single day at work. Today was one of those days. I wasn’t prepared to deal with issues when I got home.”
…I wasn’t prepared to deal with issues when I got home.
I’m an issue.
The sad thing is, I know I’m an issue.
So, I went to bed wearing the clothes I wore to work. I pulled the covers over my head. I cried a little bit. Then, I grabbed my phone, put on The King’s Speech, set it up on my nightstand, and I fell asleep.
Today was a little better for me. Maybe this weekend will be, too.