Shattered into pieces is the best way I can describe how I am feeling. What was supposed to become a nice weekend home with my partner and children, turned out to be less than 20 hours of which most arguing.
In the two weeks before this disastrous weekend, my partner had done nothing about our special day, didn't do anything on Valentine's day and forgot one of my most important appointments about my future therapy. Somehow I expected a bit of a welcome anyway, since it appeared that we were missing each other very much. Or so I thought. I must admit that I only said something about the first two incidents in our conversations. I never mentioned the outcome of the appointment, nor did I reminded my partner I had it (I mentioned it 4 days before that of which was taken note).
Friday night around 6.30pm I arrived "home" in France after a 10 hour drive. Which is quite an accomplishment for me, since I'm a big risk on the road. When I go mad, I am likely to drive people off the road when they 'do something' to me. (Cutting off, tail gaiting, and other general misbehaving annoyances.) There is a part in me that takes over and 'takes' revenge. It takes a big amount of concentration and metal masochism to prevent this from happening. A 10 hour trip is not something a psychiatrist would approve of, but wouldn't you like to hold your partner in your arms at least during one weekend a month? So I ventured on my trip, expecting to drive back on Monday.
I parked my car, dragged out a shopping bag with groceries, a bag with presents (toys) for the children and a sports-bag filled with clothes for the weekend. I stumbled up the stairs with my bags in my hands, when my partner opened the door and said "Hi, come in". I walked in dropped my bad, whilst saying something like "Wow, I'm tired, what a trip." I turned to kiss, but due to lack of being intimate with anyone I automatically kissed my partner on the cheek. I mumbled a sorry, before giving a proper kiss, but it was too late. I could feel I was extremely wrong in doing that.
From there on it went downhill, there was nothing prepared. No tea or coffee and as it turned out the coffee maker desperately needed descaling. There was no food that I particularly liked in the house (read there were only several ready-made meals in the freezer) and nothing was prepared, despite the announced arrival. I started to talk about everything I just wrote above after the children were in bed. It turned out into an argument, with several excuses, amongst one being "but I'm depressed". (For those who don't know more about me, even during my worst states I still took care of and for my partner and the children, their well-being came before my own.) And of course I was seeing it all wrong and over-reacted.
At 10:30pm my partner more or less 'announced' it was time to sleep, so we went to bed in a very awkward state. I don't know how or what my partner felt, but for me it was as if I was going to sleep against an 'empty body' as if it was lacking a person. My partner had become a stranger to me somehow, lying against each other, breathing but not moving anything. I fell asleep when my meds kicked in.
The next morning I was treated with a certain distance. Like something between a friend and a B&B guest. I almost forget to mention that for the rest of the weekend there were 3 slices of bread left, one "petit pain au chocolat" (kind of sausage roll, but replace the sausage with chocolate), and another piece of bread that only my partner eats. I had wrongly assumed that my partner would have done some shopping before I would arrive home. (It was a school holiday week and my partner had taken the week off.)
My partner and I arranged some paperwork that had come in during my absence after a silent breakfast. After that my partner left to go to the pharmacy. Upon return I was treated with even more distance. I finally broke when my partner surprise hugged the oldest with so much warmth and love as I hadn't received in a very long time. I left for the bedroom, crying my heart out.
I repositioned myself for lunch and started to pack the things I wanted to have with me. At the same time I was trying to get my partner to talk about it. But no matter what I tried, I only got either silence, distance or some poor excuse. By 3pm I was so fed up with it that I started to pack everything in my car again. We had another silent coffee. I prepared a 'tea to go' some 45 minutes later. Silently indicating my departure. My travel mug standing like a silent milestone on the kitchen counter. Straight opposite my partner, so it couldn't be missed, yet nothing was said. I took the time to let my tea brew and when it was ready, went to grab my coat and bag. It was then that I "announced" that I was leaving due to the way of welcoming and (added sarcastically) warmth during my stay. I said good bye to the children and my partner and left through the back door.
In the car I placed my stuff in position, thermos-mug in its holder, hands-free on, GPS on, iPod on, blue-tooth on the phone on... It's getting quite some check-list... I was just about to arrive when my partner showed up and opened my door. Only to give me a hug and said "I love you". Then I was off for another 10 hour drive back, whilst emotionally falling apart. I phoned my sister, then a very good friend and informed them about the situation and that I was on my way again. (I always inform several people of my trips, in case something goes wrong.) My friend asked immediately if I could stop at her place instead of driving on (she lives some 40 minutes from 'home', that's what the (now not so temporary?) room is where I'm staying.).
I told her it would be too late for her, since she normally goes to sleep around 10pm. My GPS indicated I would reach her place around midnight (not counting stops), so I told her that if I pushed on, it would be midnight, if not later. She said it wouldn't be a problem, and asked to phone around 10 anyway to tell her what the expected time of my arrival was going to be.
Mind you, I do have to stop regularly, my car doesn't have a cruise control! I need to stretch my legs and unfocus for a little while. Besides that, coffee and some regular food is also a necessity.
I arrived at her house at 11:30pm, having speeded here and there a bit... Although the first part was busy with people driving home from a holiday, I think, based on the amount of foreign license plates. There I broke down and cried my heart out and told her what exactly had happened. She offered to sleep in her living-room, but I wanted to sleep in my own bed, surrounded by my familiar things. (I hate waking up in an unfamiliar house, especially if they have the tendency to wake up around 6am.) About an hour later I drove the last part 'home' of which the last 15 minutes were very scary due to icy roads. I made it 'home' safely and went to bed.
Today, I've spent the afternoon and evening her, mostly crying and talking. This weekend hasn't been going as expected at all. FML (F*ck my life)
