Anxiety — 4
November 30, 2019 § Leave a comment
‘I don’t need your help. Those are your issues, you deal with them.’ she said. She has a dinner to go to at an out-of-the-way place from where later on in the night she won’t get a cab or an autorickshaw back. That is my fear anyway and that’s what the reference to ‘your issues’ is about. That I want to control the situation by organising a cab from someone we know and whose cab service we trust and use regularly. That I want to control the situation because of my anxieties and fears and not really out of any caring for her.
Probably sounded like a movie dialogue when I told her she didn’t have to do it for me but for our son — ensuring her own safety I mean — but ‘don’t give me that son business, what were you doing last year’ was the response. Last year I was in a deep funk, depressed, fueled by a terrible health anxiety and lots of other old demons.
On the way back from Frozen 2, we’d stopped at a bakery where she’d wanted to pick up some cake. I was trying to turn the car around and the right side rear wheel went into a ditch I’d missed. I told her I’ll have to figure out how to get it out, and she disappeared into the next shop to check out some make up.
She’d assumed I wouldn’t want her standing there and watching me sweat it. I’d been thinking she would stay and try to help or at least stay as moral support. Somewhere along the way the cake, in a box, and a packet of cutlets had landed in my hands and I angrily chucked em on to the back seats. The cake got crushed. We had a fight.
The wheel got extricated easily enough, but now she’ll go on her own and I’ll worry until she’s back safe. She drank the tea I made, though. Didn’t mean anything.