How to Be an Asshole to Your Husband When You Need Me-Time

I left my husband rolling gyoza in the kitchen, his hands covered in flour, confusion across his face. I trot down the stairs, car keys jingling and I have no idea where I'm about to go but I know I'll be alone. No one will be able to find me. No one can call me (my phone is going on airplane mode) and no one can ask me to do anything I don't want to do. The world has been hounding me from all directions (that's what happens when you run multiple businesses and you still want to party and meet friends for coffee) and I've been hounding myself from the inside, pushing hard against walls of fear, questioning who I am and why I behave the way I do and figuring out how to disassemble fucked up pieces from childhood and rewire my brain so it works the way I want it to. I've got the world on my shoulders and it's fun and challenging and rewarding's too much. So I hit the freeway. I find a Starbucks (that stays open til 10pm!) and I sink into a window seat and write poetry in my journal. Nobody knows me here. Nobody knows I'm here. Nobody can contact me. It's just me when I was a teenager and I would lay in my room writing poetry. No responsibilities or demands. Just me, doing whatever I want. Ahh... it's been far too long and it's strange and delicious.

The airplane mode is important. I didn't turn it on until I was already in Starbucks at which point, the messages and notifications had trinkled in, including a request from home "to buy flour." It sunk my belly a little to be reminded that I was expected to return to the house. I wanted a fantasy escape for a few hours where I truly believed I didn't have to return (which of course I didn't). When I did return home it was to a slightly salty husband whose feelings were understandably bruised and since I was still feeling isolationist, I didn't exactly give him any consoling or comforting. He wanted to play music with me. I wanted to play music alone. He wanted to go out on a joyride. I sat shotgun with a grumpy 'I don't want to be here' kinda stink on my face. He could tell that I just didn't want to be around him and of course that was hurtful (nothing personal to him, I just needed me time). Then later before bed, he lost it a little at threw an apple down the hall at me (lol) as I slipped into the bedroom. "What's wrong?" I asked like as asshole. He told me he felt like he was a burden and ignored. I nodded and walked away, took a shower and went to bed, giving him a (probably pathetic) cheek kiss. Ouch. Sometimes I'm so deep in the 'gotta take care of me' hole that I have a cold heart towards everyone else. Even a direct statement like "you're hurting my feelings" evokes nothing from me but a "that's tough. I know how that feels." I don't know how to behave more kindly in these moments since I'm already functioning in survival mode with only enough energy reserves for myself. Perhaps the solution is to just avoid these low points all together. Don't get to rock bottom with self-care or set it up so you're not around other people in these moments. Tips anybody? // Cha

cha wilde - journaling in starbucks coffeeshop
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