On Controlling My Emotions

I am an emotional person. When I am happy, I can’t stop smiling. I cry during cheesy movies. When I was a veterinary nurse, there was more than one time I was caught crying during the euthanasia of someone else’s pet. Ok, it was every time. Sometimes, i.e. when I can help someone the grieving process, it is a good thing. Other times, like last week when I gave my husband the silent treatment for half an hour after he told me his work schedule changed, therefore ruining the steak dinner I had planned, it’s not such a good thing. Apparently, sometimes I’m a bitch. I’m not proud.

While I’ll probably continue to be a bitch in some respects, I’ve come to realize that the majority of the fights Brian and I have stem from a situation like that above. We have plans, his schedule changes, and I get pissed. Of course, I realized this mid-silent treatment last week. So, I went into our office, metaphorical tail between my legs, and apologized. And promised that, in the future, I’d react better to similar situations.

I wasn’t expecting to be tested so soon, dammit.

It’s no secret that the Midwest has been hit by some pretty big storms. We narrowly missed some pretty severe flooding ourselves. As a photographer, it is Brian’s job to cover the damage. Which isn’t a big deal when he’s covering local damage. But, after saying a regular goodbye to him yesterday morning thinking I’d see him later that night, I get a call around 3 p.m. to say that the paper wants to send him to a city about three hours away to cover the severe damage they still have from floods. Say what?

Yep, just like that, he was driving three hours south and booking a hotel room for the night. And I came home to an empty house. But this time, something was different. I was disappointed that I wouldn’t get to see my husband that night, but I wasn’t angry. I wanted to be with him, but I didn’t want to yell at him for something that wasn’t his fault or get upset and hang up the phone. Instead, I complained a bit on how his job abuses his talent, told him I loved him, and asked him to text me when he arrived safely. I can’t promise that this will be my reaction every time something changes, but it certainly felt a lot better than my previous reactions. It’s still not easy, especially because I still have no idea how many days he’ll be away. I’m hoping he comes home tonight, but even he doesn’t know yet. Which means I’m waiting. Which is OK, because it is what it is. I cannot control his job assignments any more than I can control the weather causing these floods. But I can be waiting with a big hug whenever he gets home.

And that’s progress, right?