It was a lot like an explosion. Or even something mythical. Like some weird black magic spell. Or being posessed. I'm talking about Thursday night/ Friday morning when J came home at about 4 very very very drunk. Things were going fine until he got upset I wanted to sleep on the couch (the smell of alcohol and cigarettes was getting to me) and he slammed the door after I warned him not to. I warned him not to do such a thing not because of me but because our son was peacefully sleeping in the room right next to ours. I lost it. I lost it. J has never seen that side of me. Not once. Maybe glimpses, flickers. But never has he been at the receiving end of the very nasty, vile, crazy angry me. I have done a very good job of controlling that nasty side of me. I've had her whittled down to a tiny little being inside of me. My ex-boyfriend in California was really the last one to be her victim. He constantly saw that side of me. I hated it and it was a big reason I left. A person should never be provoked into such a state. I was screaming and sobbing at the same time. I was saying hateful and cruel things. I would've made a sailor blush, maybe even a death row inmate. It was hideous. No joke, the rage that was in me was so much I wanted to punch him- over and over and over again. I wanted to slam my fists into his head and face. It was disgusting. I couldn't stand the way he was looking at me. Somehow, I channeled that into a shove in the chest and walked away. I had to. I knew otherwise, I'd slap him for sure. At the very least, I'd slap him. Needless to say, I wasn't shocked when he came out and spewed vile back at me but it was while he was doing so I realized how drunk he was. He was saying things to just say thing. It was laughable in a way. His complaints were really pitiful complaints. My favorite was that I go to bed at whatever time I want to. He said that one over and over again. He said fuck you and flipped me the bird and walked away. When I went in the room less than ten minutes later to apologize, he was out COLD. It took me five minutes to wake him up and he was still out of it. Talking to me sweetly and completely unaware.
I have no idea what he remembers and what he doesn't. For me, it was cathartic. It was all this nasty vile stuff that had been sitting in me and I had to spew it out. I had to get it out of me. I'm a little ashamed but mostly relieved he was as intoxicated as he was.