Despite my previous attempt to be rational and calm and not bite Cowboy’s head off the other day – which I deemed to be successful – I followed that success with an epic fail of temperament.
|Psychosis is brewing|
He messaged to say good morning. Said he loved me. I asked him about plans for the horse expo which we’ll be going to while I’m visiting next month. He said he didn’t mind.
Something in my brain flipped.
It doesn’t matter he had said. I blew it as far out of proportion as I could. I huffed and puffed and typed a ridiculous message back to him, to the effect of: If you can’t say more than three words about anything, I’m going to assume you don’t care about anything.
He was baffled. He asked me to call him, trying to make the effort that I had courteously requested the previous day, ready to talk to me. This is a visual representation of what he got from me down the phone:
I ranted, raved, accused; I was furious and defensive; I was entirely out of patience. Clearly, I was still bothered about our communication failure. I should not be so deluded about my psychological progress with issues that I think a simple two message exchange will remove an entire chunk of rage from my psyche.
He listened patiently. He asked what he had to do to make things right.
He is so very tolerant of me sometimes.