My Father-In-Law is here helping us tile the kitchen (more on that later).
I love my Father-In-Law - as a matter of fact, as far as In-Laws go, I won the lottery. They are both kind, generous people and they have taken me into their family.
But when my Father-In-Law and I do projects together, I get my back up. Perhaps it's my perfectionism ... or his ... or more likely the combination - and a certain amount of insecurity on both our parts. No matter what it is, we grate on each other (I think - at least he grates on me a bit).
So today when he was trying to show me how to lay tile - and kept taking the tile and trowel away from me (hear and I forget, see and I remember, do and I learn), I just got more and more frustrated and ended up storming out of the kitchen crying. Not my best shining moment.
But after a cry in the garden (and my husband kindly telling me that perhaps I had over-reacted a bit - duh!) and then curling up in bed for a few minutes, I realized something. This has nothing to do with my Father-In-Law. This has to do with my mood disorder (for those of you who haven't read the earlier posts, start with The Great Depression, Part One).
It is HUGE personal growth to have a mood disorder and to recognize that the mood you're experiencing isn't coming from outside of yourself. It is not caused by someone being picky or mean. It is caused from an imbalance in brain chemicals. These chemicals go off balance very easily if I'm not eating right, exercising, or sleeping (which is what's happening right now - a triple whammy). Stress also causes them to be unbalanced - just try having your kitchen on the back deck and in your dining room for a week - it's stressful. As is having company. So there are several things combining to make me a bit of a crazy bitch right now. But at least I recognize it. Not instantaneously, but after a few minutes.
So I hauled my butt into the kitchen and apologized and explained. And got a hug. Now I think I'll just stay out of the kitchen for a while. Noel and his Dad can continue on. Perhaps the stationery bike is calling?
I really wish it wouldn't happen. But at least when it does, I have a better chance of recognizing what the problem is.
... Yay me??