Anger

 Have you ever spoken to someone really harshly and then seconds later lived with regret for having spoken? When I came home from the hospital, I found that I needed help from Joe in a new and different way. Now, to be clear, Joe has never complained about helping me, he's too good of a man for that. 

But.

I was angry.

Really angry.

It's hard for me to rely on Joe quite so very much.

And in response to that.

Did I feel grateful?

Did I ensure that he knew I appreciated him?

No, of course not.

I had anger in my blood. So a couple days ago, I lost it. I spoke to him roughly and rudely. I could hear my anger vibrating in the air between us. Seconds later, when alone, I felt miserable. How could I be this person? I don't want to be the bitter cripple.

After breakfast, I turned to Joe to explain to him what I was feeling and why. I explained that my anger wasn't well contained. I explained that I knew I had no right to speak to him the way I had. I told him that when I did it again if I did do it again, to call me on it on the spot.

I've settled down a bit now and a new routine is building between us.

And we're good.

Really good, right now.