if not tonight, the clothes may be hung up tomorrow

So i'm tired, but i feel like i really ought to chronicle the events of last night. i could have done so last night, but by the time i finally stopped shaking and was able to lie down again, i hadn't the motivation.

i, well, i basically broke last night. It was progressive, really. mom has not wanted mary coming. This isn't a normal sort of, "i don't want her coming," this is an ongoing, persistent litany, a follow you around the house swearing, and begging, and crying chorus, a must have an answer and must have it now decree, a you hate me you terrible person indictment. It is, to say the least, wearing on a person. Couple that with bubs' depression (borderline suicidal) and general angst, and you can get an inkling of our family situation.

So yesterday i arrived home, and as soon as mary walked out the door mom told me she didn't want her. i was supposed to drive k to a town roughly forty minutes away to buy a purse (because i have no backbone), i know bubs has been cruel to mom lately when she drives him crazy (and thus don't want to leave them alone to make the trip) and it has been snowing. i ask k not to have us go, but she insists we have to, and makes me feel guilty. Actually she snaps at me, that i am a terrible person. i think she knows that this will get to me, and next thing i know i am driving her, trying no to cry, to buy the purse, worrying about bubs and mom at home. Just before i leave the house, bubs tells me he wanted to go down the road, but k. is more important. So i'm torn between guilt and guilt, with two people making me feel bad for not going out of the way to help them, and i'm just doormat enough to be torn.

The trip itself is not bad. Thank God!!!!!!!!! (for all!!!!!!!!!) that the weather is not so bad outside of our area, and we arrive back home quite early. mom wants to go out as soon as we get home (of course) so i take her to the store. It is after this that everything falls apart.

Let me back this up and state that from the morning's incident of begging, i had already driven to work crying and praying. So my emotional state was not very stable to begin with.

i shower, and go to make myself dinner. mom decides at this point that the dirt has got to be cleaned out of the dining room, right now. i start to help her, and ought to have continued, but she keeps finding new places, and i know this will happen. i start screaming at her, and begging her to stop around this point.

i went into the kitchen and reverted to an old stress relief habit. This, i suppose, ought to have been warning sign number one. i won't get into what the habit itself is, though v and xh could guess.

i am into the kitchen, and she follows me. i had started the washing machine, and made myself a sandwich. Even though i asked her not to, she opens the washing machine, and i am not certain that the spray did not get in my sandwich. Something snaps, and i throw the sandwich on the floor and start screaming, in that manner which starts as a yell but devolves into a wordless shriek of frustration. i then have to grab the bread off the floor, before she tries to eat it.

i get her upstairs to watch tv, but she won't stop the litany, won't stop the begging, the swearing, the blame. Anyone reading this may think me a bad person. Probably, i am. Until, however, you've experienced someone following you from room to room swearing at you, repeating the same thing over and over, off and on for days on end, until you've experienced being caught between someone who is depressed and needs to be bolstered, who has a hair trigger for anger, and someone who cannot help but be annoying, you don't realize how draining it can be. Still, i ought to handle it better. With more faith, i know i would. Lord, help me and give me more faith, please?

i came back downstairs after giving her her medicine, and shortly thereafter she follows me back down. It is now probably after ten o'clock, and i ask her to please allow me to go to bed. She continues to beg me to call mary and cancel, to let her call, to please call, to cancel and call. At a certain point i sit up and start to punch the windowsill. This isn't entirely unheard of, i have taken to occasionally punching walls, and even have prided myself in the fact that i have managed to make at least one dent. (If you're going to end up with sore knuckles, you at least want something to show for it.) This night it was the windowsill, and as she continued to go, i began to laugh, to cry.

This then went into probably the worst panic attack i have had since passing out in albania. i couldn't breathe normally, and when i got that under control the shakes began. It was either gasping or shaking, in cycles, for perhaps fifteen or twenty minutes straight, maybe more. It was bad enough that bubs asked if they were going to have to take me somewhere (presumably the hospital for the not being able to breath thing). mom calmed down enough to try to be helpful; bubs was helpful, but i had to keep trying to keep him from being cruel to mom, to force her upstairs.

In time i was able to lay down, to breathe, to stop shaking. mom went upstairs, though she came down twice more to get more medicine. (Fiber pill placebos are a gift of God.) This morning i awoke again to her begging me to call mary not to come. This was before seven.

Today has been a day of riding the emotional hangover. Thank God, though, that all has been good. The headache is gone, basically. i have sore enough knuckles to maybe keep me from punching things soon, but no serious damage. my arm smarts a bit, but nothing bad.

Best of all, bubs is on Easter break from school. mary wants to see her grandson, and has agreed not to come until Tuesday. It has been a much quieter night. Thank God for blessings!!!!!!!!!