I’ve always known I was a bit crazy. I mean come on, we all have our crazy moments or thoughts. Those days you look in the mirror and think you are one crazy bitch. But then there are those moments. The moments where you have when you realize, maybe I have an issue. Why did I do that? Why did I act that way? Those moments where you have that dread feeling come over you as you realize it was you. You were in the wrong. You’re perception is what caused this whole issue and it was a very dark perception. This is what happened to me the other day.
While in retrospect, said event of the monster-siting doesn’t seem all that monstrous but deep down, it put things in perspective for me. I think it was the simplicity of what happened that really struck me as something is wrong. Inside of me. Why would something so simple make me come so undone.
The other night I came home after spending the evening at a friends house. My roommate and his boyfriend had their weekly date night the same night and were already in bed when I got in. When I walked in, the first thing I noticed was the smell. It smelled like really good home-fried cooking. I dropped off my things in my room and went scavenging for any leftovers when I realized they had cooked, and in the process left a pile of dishes in the sink. It was like a slow anger that built. I told myself it’s fine, they just cooked and left some dishes, no big deal. The pots were soaking and they didn’t feel like doing them. I get it. I never feel like doing dishes. But as I was getting ready for bed, I started to think about it and mull it over. One of the reasons it even bothered me in the first place is that generally speaking, I’m the one who does the dishes in the house. Which is fine, it’s how I like it and I’m the one who cooks, so it makes sense. With that being said, my roommate rarely does the dishes and if they cook, or his boyfriend cooks and we’re all there, his boyfriend will do the dishes. So, as I’m doing my nightly routine, I start thinking, well if his boyfriend gets up and leaves for work in the morning, and isn’t planning on coming back over for a couple days, that leaves the dishes to my roommate. Who rarely does them. You can see why it was a slow anger, because as I slowly started to connect the dots of the “typical pattern”, I realized that I was going to have to do the dishes. And not only that, they had dirtied up the kitchen. While, yes, they had cleaned a little, but I had specifically left the kitchen completely clean the night before because I knew I was planning on going to a friends house that night.
I’m sure by now you can see where this leads. Now maybe some of you would’ve gone into a rage and immediately done something about it. left a note or even woke them up. And some of you would’ve said it’s no big deal, I’m sure roomie will do them tomorrow. Nothing to be concerned about. I did neither of those things. Instead I seethed. I tried not to. I tried to calm myself down and not think about it. I thought to myself ‘It’s just dishes, who cares. He can cook in the apartment and clean the dishes later if he wants. It’s his apartment too’. But as I woke the next day, I rushed out the door with barely a hello to either of them. Obviously, I had slept it off and was holding no grudges (insert smirk here). I had it in the back of my mind but the rationale side of me kept saying just let it go, and maybe just bring it up casually in conversation to my roomie at some point during the day. Since we work together, it was inevitable that I would see him. So, he came in to work, I attempted to push any thoughts away and ask him how his evening was. He told me they had cooked dinner and such and I made my first stab by saying ‘Oh yeah I noticed the dishes in the sink so I figured you guys had cooked’ and quickly tried to cover by saying I’d looked for leftovers and it smelled delicious. A little while later we were talking about what each others plans were for the evening. I was going to a work dinner and he had decided to stay at home. Yes! Another opportunity to bring it up again. I said great, you can relax and work on your projects and do some dusting and dishes. Okay maybe just the dishes. (How obvious was I?) It was then that he, after I pushed his buttons, confronts me about the dishes. During our conversation about it, he explains that yes he had left them because he didn’t want to spend time washing dishes on their one date night but had every intention of washing the dishes. The one thing that really stuck with me is that he said he had hoped I would have had enough faith in him to know that he wouldn’t have just left the dishes for me to clean when I wasn’t even home. There. That was the moment. Slowly it started to sink in. Slowly I realized it was me. I was the monster.
I found myself asking why. Why had I let this simple incident consume me and not only that, but then make jabs at him all day and make him feel like shit. Which made me feel worse. I am the worst kind of monster. I didn’t just go into a rage and get it over with. I didn’t plot a revenge. I simply seethed and stewed in my anger that wasn't even warranted. I made him out to be the bad guy when I hadn’t even given him the chance. I sat down, thought rationally about it and still acted the way I did. And that is why I am the worst kind. I bring you in, make you feel warm and fuzzy. Slowly my colors start to show through. But it’s too late. You already love me and care about me, so it makes it that much harder to just let me go. Not to mention, when I do act ridiculous, I typically realize I was in the wrong and then make up for it. I apologize, I buy you a peace offering or do a nice thing for you. You think to yourself, it was just one thing, no big deal. She really is such a great person, and then I do it again. And again. And again. I don’t even realize I’m doing it. And these events are not happening in rapid succession so their fresh on your mind. No. They happen randomly with plenty of time in-between. I’m the worst kind of monster because though my intention is not to be a monster, and I draw you in and spit you out. I take that spit-up-you and console it and admit it was my fault and you’re hooked again. I’m a monster with good intentions and as we know, intentions are just that. Warm thoughts and bad actions.
I knew I was crazy. I had finally come to terms with that. I’m a girl with hormones. I’m a person with emotions. I’m an animal who survives. But I don’t want to be a monster. I don’t want to be that person who everyone is afraid of or is walking on eggshells around because they don’t want to wake the beast. I don’t want to be that person who you fear will freak out when you tell them bad or unhappy news. So, I’m working on it. The first true step to anything is admitting. I’ve admitted it and now I have to start working towards figuring out why I am a monster and what I can do to tame her.
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