Psychobitch Meltdown
Be not angry that you cannot make others as you wish them to be, since you cannot make yourself as you wish to be. ~ Thomas a Kempis
Never let it be said that I'm unwilling to admit character flaws or fuckups or any other negative behavior I've been engaged in. This past weekend I had a rare psychobitch meltdown. First of all, let me just say that the aforementioned PBM is a symptom of chemo brain. (Not that I'm making excuses, mind you.)
It all started 20 years ago. Hubby was participating in a theatre event that went on for literally months. At the time I'd just quit my abusive, exhausting job and was settling into a major depression. (Hubby and I weren't married at the time, but we'd been together for about 10 years.) I walk into the backstage area after the play and I find Hubby with Blonde Bitch. They're standing on different sides of a table, but there are definitely vibes. He introduces me to her and I give her one of my psychobitch smiles (the mouth is smiling, but the eyes are cold as a snake's). That smile generally sends a chill down everyone's spine.
I start complaining about Blonde Bitch. Hubby ignores me. I start keeping track of the number of times this pisses me off and why. Somewhere along the way, Hubby is off at rehearsal (or something) and I had the first psychobitch meltdown. I start punching the wall with my fist. Yes, it hurt, but when you're in the midst of PBM, it doesn't matter so much.
Cut to three years later. Hubby is out of town. Lo and behold, he gets a letter from the Blonde Bitch, who was living somewhere in Vermont or one of those northern states. She has sent him an acorn. How precious. I flew into a rage and, if Hubby hadn't been out of town, it might have caused me to break my long-standing rule of not arguing in front of my parents, who were visiting for the weekend. By the time Hubby got back and the parents were gone, I'd come to my senses enough to be embarrased that I opened his mail. I apologized. However, that did not mean that I was feeling any friendlier towards Blonde Bitch or any more reasonable about his contact with her generally.
So she's in and out of my life over the course of the next 17 years. This past weekend, we went to the premiere of a play she had something to do with. First let me say that going to the play with Hubby was a huge deal for me. My fatigue level is crushing, but since we haven't done anything together in a while, I was willing to ignore the fatigue and go anyway. We get in our seats and who comes rushing up but the Blonde Bitch herself. She gushes and hugs Hubby...too long. I'm sitting there staring at her as she does this. It does not faze her. She's not only a Blonde Bitch, she's a brazen blonde bitch. She then grabs my hand and tells me my hair looks good. I tell her it's not my hair. "I know," she said. Bitch.
All of this catapults me into a serious rage. The sane side of my brain is frantically telling the crazy side to just calm down and get a grip. The crazy side completelly ignores that advice. At intermission, I go outside to calm down while Hubby visits the restroom. When I go back in, there he is hovering over her while she fills her fat yap with food. (Uh oh. Psychobitch alert.) Rage absolutely clogs every centimeter of my body. I tell Hubby that I'm feeling tired and I need to go sit down. He's fine with this, but didn't feel impelled to follow me. Better that he stay there with the fat, yap-filling, brazen blonde bitch. Need I say more? I was enraged again. When Hubby finally comes in to sit down, I lean over and say, "I came tonight because I wanted to do something with you because we rarely do that. It turns out that we're still not doing anyting together."
As we're leaving, she rushes over to hug Hubby again. I keep walking. He catches up to me outside and I just can't contain my rage anymore. I graby him by the arm and say, in a lowered tone of voice," No time to spend with me. You've got to go hang out with Precious Cindy." (Note: the name has been changed to protect the blonde bitch.) I continued, "You can just go sit your ass down in the chair by yourself while I hang out with 'She's a bitch but I like her" Cindy." Hubby does not respond and that does not help his case at all.
We get in the car and I'm unstoppable. "You don't love me. You'd rather spend your time with Precious Cindy."
"I'm sorry I spent five minutes with my firends, " he says in his passive aggressive way.
"Fuck you, Hubby. Fuck you." I respond. Reason hit the road a long time ago and I'm completely riding the huge wave or rage. "You just go ahead and sit down in there by yourself, ggirl. I've got more important things to do than pay attention to you. I'm busy her with Cindy. She's a bitch, you know, but I just can't help myself from thinking she's fabulous."
I harangued for about 45 minutes before I came to my senses--at least enough to get rid of that poisonous tone of voice I'd been using.
"I'm sorry," I finally say, "But the hug was too long."
He does not respond.
"The hug was too long and it doesn't matter how I look on the outside, you can count on the fact that anytime you come in contact with her, I'm going to be really pissed off. Fair warning."
"You're my best friend, ggirl. Even beyond the romantic and sexual aspects of our relationship, I value your friendship," he says.
"You're my best friend, too. But the hug was too long."
On Monday, I was out of town for a meeting with my radiation oncologist. Then it dawns on me that I have been a total asshole, I recognize that I've had a psychobitch meltdown and I'm completely mortified. When I got back on Tuesday, I wrote Hubby and email, telling him how embarassed I am by my egregious behavior. "Thanks," he said.
Chemo brain or just plain flat out crazy. That is the question. I really like the first alternative, but I'm not sure that isn't just self-serving. So here it is, world. I have been a very bad person. My relationship with anger is not an easy one, but I don't have the time to elaborate. Maybe tomorrow.
America held hostage day 1541
Bushism of the day:
"I think that freedom is a powerful incentive. And I am—I believe that someday freedom will prevail everywhere, because freedom is a powerful drive for people to—and it's the beginnings of people expressing themselves toward a free Iran, which I think is positive."
—Bush, on recent protests in Iran
Source: The White House, "President Believes Peace in Middle East is Achievable: Remarks by the President to the Travel Pool," June 15, 2003
