Thursday, 8 July 2010

And the prize for the winning insult goes to...

I turned into a prize bitch last night. Usually, I’m a sensitive soul and don’t like to row as I find it so difficult to deal with. But last night I really went for it.

This is not something to be proud of. I seemed to turn into evil monster who could only say nasty, horrible things - all to my adored husband. At one point during the peak of my rantings I called him ‘an f’ing insensitive uncaring bastard’. I think I vaguely heard him mumble something about me being ‘an irrational fruitbat’ but to be fair to him, he kept calm throughout the entire episode.

I hurled abuse for about half an hour, then stomped about the flat slamming doors and banging things, then I cried, then he hugged me, then I cried some more, and then we went to sleep.

And the reason for this drama? I have absolutely no idea. It came out of nowhere and was about nothing very much at all. But I am fully aware that I needed no real reason, that I just needed to let rip.

There are a lot of raw feelings and emotions bubbling beneath the surface when you’re trying to get pregnant. For both sides.

So, the opportunity to vent those feelings can sometimes seem too enticing to miss. But with the person you know and love the most, who’s as vulnerable and bruised as you are? Not ideal.

This morning I vowed never to do that to him again. I hope I stick to it.

Until next time.

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