“Kadence.” He moves in but my hand comes up.
“You touch me again and I’m out. I’m not even kidding, Nix. I will pack a bag so goddamn fast you won’t even see it coming,” I threaten. My head is all over the place, my mind in a constant battle with itself. Fuck, how did it get like this?
“What the hell, Kadence?”
“I can’t handle you being late,” I shout, pointing to the broken bathroom door. All of my insecurities, feelings of being hopeless, fears of failing, surface to the top as my anger flows through me. “I fucking lost it tonight because of you not coming home when you said you would!”
“Dad?” Z calls through the door, halting whatever was about to go down between us.
“Go,” I whisper, afraid of what Z’s already heard. Knowing our son waits on the other side of the door alone has Nix looking torn. His eyes pleading with me for something I can’t give him.
“Yeah, coming, bud,” he calls out as I walk past him. I don’t give him another chance to try to talk to me; instead, I head back into the bathroom. My safe place.
“This conversation isn’t over. We will talk about this, Kadence,” he warns, but I don’t respond. What is there to say? He left, came home, and found me at my worst. It wasn’t the first time it’s happened.
I hear the bedroom door open and then shut. I let out an unsteady breath I didn’t know I was holding. Peeling myself out of my wet clothes, I re-dress and rush through my bedtime routine. It’s not yet dinner time, but the reality of the day is too much for my state. I know Nix must be worried, coming home to see me like this, but sometimes just stepping away when the darkness starts to consume me helps.
Confining myself within the marble walls of my bathroom gives me a disturbing comfort. I find solace in the silence. If that doesn’t work, then my screams block out her cries, reminding me I still have a voice when I release a small piece of my fear.
Letting the sound of my pain echo off the walls gives me the reprieve I am searching for. Does it fix the issue that something is happening with me? No. Nor does it make Harlow stop crying and give me the peace my mind so desperately needs in order to heal. No. Sitting in the shower, locked away in the bathroom, hiding from my family is the only way I can deal. I can block out everything around me and be someone else. Somewhere else. I’m not a mom who is laced with guilt for not being happy when I have everything to be happy for. I’m not this panicky person whose heart races just from picking out what clothes Low is going to wear. Pretending is my relief. It’s how I manage to block it all out. I know it isn’t healthy, but some days pretending is just easier.
After brushing my teeth, I climb into bed and bury myself under the covers. I know I should go out, check on Low and Z, but now that Nix is home, I know he will have it under control. With the day’s exhaustion catching up on me, I force my eyes shut, and pray I fall asleep before Nix comes back. The last thing I need tonight is to go over what happened today.
***
“Kadence?” I hear whispered into my ear. I open my eyes and find the room is shadowed in darkness as Nix’s bedside lamp illuminates his side of the room. I must have fallen asleep.
“Don’t touch me.” I pull away, hiding myself further under the covers. This is something I have allowed the last few weeks, him holding me in the quietness of our bed. But tonight, I can’t even stand to have him near me.
“I don’t want to fight, baby. I don’t even want to talk. Just let me hold you.”
“Nix.” I tense when he pulls me closer to him. “Not now.” I keep my eyes closed, needing to find sleep again.
“Fuckin’ when then?” He pulls away, hitting the empty space of the bed beside him.
“Just don’t touch me,” I repeat, sinking further into my cocoon of bed covers.
“Jesus, Kadence. The only fuckin’ time I touch you is in my sleep. Don’t fuckin’ take that from me too. Don’t push me away when I’m hangin’ on by a fuckin’ thread. I miss you, baby. I miss your hands, your smile. Fuck, I miss your face.”
“I’m not trying to push you away, Nix, but you need to give me more time.” I keep my eyes closed. Too afraid to turn and see what his eyes are telling me.
“This is not just about you, Kadence. There are two people in this marriage. How long do I have to wait? How long until we come undone?”
I turn, pissed off he just won’t give up. “You’re unbelievable, do you know that? You don’t get sex for seven weeks and you’re threatening me with this bullshit? You want to fuck? Huh? You want to take me when it’s clear that I don’t want it? You want me to just lay there and fucking pretend?”
“What the fuck is wrong with you, woman? You think this is about sex? You don’t talk to me. You won’t let me hold you and you won’t tell me what is happening with you. When was the last time you went outside? The last time you laughed, or even smiled? ” He continues to throw everything I’m failing at right back at me, and each jab makes me hate myself even more.
“I’m just tired, Nix. Last time I checked, I just had a baby. A baby who won’t eat, and who has ruined my fucking body. Who screams for twenty-hours a day. And you want to know what the fuck is wrong with me?” My insecurities surge forward as I scream at the top of my lungs. Fear, hatred, and pain fuel my rage, yet a small part of me knows he has a right to be worried. It’s not just about Harlow and what is happening with her. It’s about us and me, because something is happening with me.
“You touch me again and I’m out. I’m not even kidding, Nix. I will pack a bag so goddamn fast you won’t even see it coming,” I threaten. My head is all over the place, my mind in a constant battle with itself. Fuck, how did it get like this?
“What the hell, Kadence?”
“I can’t handle you being late,” I shout, pointing to the broken bathroom door. All of my insecurities, feelings of being hopeless, fears of failing, surface to the top as my anger flows through me. “I fucking lost it tonight because of you not coming home when you said you would!”
“Dad?” Z calls through the door, halting whatever was about to go down between us.
“Go,” I whisper, afraid of what Z’s already heard. Knowing our son waits on the other side of the door alone has Nix looking torn. His eyes pleading with me for something I can’t give him.
“Yeah, coming, bud,” he calls out as I walk past him. I don’t give him another chance to try to talk to me; instead, I head back into the bathroom. My safe place.
“This conversation isn’t over. We will talk about this, Kadence,” he warns, but I don’t respond. What is there to say? He left, came home, and found me at my worst. It wasn’t the first time it’s happened.
I hear the bedroom door open and then shut. I let out an unsteady breath I didn’t know I was holding. Peeling myself out of my wet clothes, I re-dress and rush through my bedtime routine. It’s not yet dinner time, but the reality of the day is too much for my state. I know Nix must be worried, coming home to see me like this, but sometimes just stepping away when the darkness starts to consume me helps.
Confining myself within the marble walls of my bathroom gives me a disturbing comfort. I find solace in the silence. If that doesn’t work, then my screams block out her cries, reminding me I still have a voice when I release a small piece of my fear.
Letting the sound of my pain echo off the walls gives me the reprieve I am searching for. Does it fix the issue that something is happening with me? No. Nor does it make Harlow stop crying and give me the peace my mind so desperately needs in order to heal. No. Sitting in the shower, locked away in the bathroom, hiding from my family is the only way I can deal. I can block out everything around me and be someone else. Somewhere else. I’m not a mom who is laced with guilt for not being happy when I have everything to be happy for. I’m not this panicky person whose heart races just from picking out what clothes Low is going to wear. Pretending is my relief. It’s how I manage to block it all out. I know it isn’t healthy, but some days pretending is just easier.
After brushing my teeth, I climb into bed and bury myself under the covers. I know I should go out, check on Low and Z, but now that Nix is home, I know he will have it under control. With the day’s exhaustion catching up on me, I force my eyes shut, and pray I fall asleep before Nix comes back. The last thing I need tonight is to go over what happened today.
***
“Kadence?” I hear whispered into my ear. I open my eyes and find the room is shadowed in darkness as Nix’s bedside lamp illuminates his side of the room. I must have fallen asleep.
“Don’t touch me.” I pull away, hiding myself further under the covers. This is something I have allowed the last few weeks, him holding me in the quietness of our bed. But tonight, I can’t even stand to have him near me.
“I don’t want to fight, baby. I don’t even want to talk. Just let me hold you.”
“Nix.” I tense when he pulls me closer to him. “Not now.” I keep my eyes closed, needing to find sleep again.
“Fuckin’ when then?” He pulls away, hitting the empty space of the bed beside him.
“Just don’t touch me,” I repeat, sinking further into my cocoon of bed covers.
“Jesus, Kadence. The only fuckin’ time I touch you is in my sleep. Don’t fuckin’ take that from me too. Don’t push me away when I’m hangin’ on by a fuckin’ thread. I miss you, baby. I miss your hands, your smile. Fuck, I miss your face.”
“I’m not trying to push you away, Nix, but you need to give me more time.” I keep my eyes closed. Too afraid to turn and see what his eyes are telling me.
“This is not just about you, Kadence. There are two people in this marriage. How long do I have to wait? How long until we come undone?”
I turn, pissed off he just won’t give up. “You’re unbelievable, do you know that? You don’t get sex for seven weeks and you’re threatening me with this bullshit? You want to fuck? Huh? You want to take me when it’s clear that I don’t want it? You want me to just lay there and fucking pretend?”
“What the fuck is wrong with you, woman? You think this is about sex? You don’t talk to me. You won’t let me hold you and you won’t tell me what is happening with you. When was the last time you went outside? The last time you laughed, or even smiled? ” He continues to throw everything I’m failing at right back at me, and each jab makes me hate myself even more.
“I’m just tired, Nix. Last time I checked, I just had a baby. A baby who won’t eat, and who has ruined my fucking body. Who screams for twenty-hours a day. And you want to know what the fuck is wrong with me?” My insecurities surge forward as I scream at the top of my lungs. Fear, hatred, and pain fuel my rage, yet a small part of me knows he has a right to be worried. It’s not just about Harlow and what is happening with her. It’s about us and me, because something is happening with me.
