I should be sleeping but instead I’m wide awake an angry at Jonathan. I know from experience that if I talk to him about why I’m angry, he’ll essentially accuse me of being mental. His ex-wife was mental. (By “mental”, I mean that she has completely untreated bipolar disorder and behaves irrationally)
Jonathan’s ex-wife is the love of Jonathan’s life. I don’t think even he knows that…maybe he does. Either way, it doesn’t matter. If I tell him his ex-wife is the love of his life and that I feel angry about this, Jonathan will just say he never said any such thing and insinuate I’m making things up – like a mental patient.
I’m not a mental patient. I’m angry.
Jonathan has a bad day at work. He was smoking weed in his van right after he got home leaving me to deal with the kids by my lonesome all evening. Luke hasn’t been doing his homework, is failing school, and has been acting like a total butthole every night for the past 2 weeks so he knew what I had to deal with from 6P-9:30P solid; no breaks.
Oh, I’m angry. I’m angry that everyone can handle their bad day by smoking weed or acting like a butthole but no matter how bad my day was, how sick I feel, or how tired I am – I still have to “be nice” or I get labeled mental. The perils of being female.