When things get rough, I often tell myself and others that I'll be all right, that I'm a tough cookie. Never mention my cream-filled center, though.
The situation between Evan and me is deteriorating by the moment. He's angry all the time and uses that anger like a hammer. Today he hit me with two of his best: my weight and the fact that I didn't give birth to him.
As in, "It's a good thing you didn't have real kids, isn't it?"
I know he's hurting. I know he's lonely. I know he lashes out with what he knows will hurt worst, whether he believes it or not.
I also know I promised myself I would never again live mostly in my bedroom or hide from his anger in my closet as I did when he was in high school. He's not expressing his anger with violence. Yet.
I'm writing this from my closet, but only because I don't want him to hear me cry.
I need help. Please pray (if that's your way) for us both.