The idea was that I would go and and wash dishes while my tea was cooling, and then take my tea, and my girls outside, where we would enjoy the evening as we did most nights while my mom was here. I have to be able to make plans like this, and when those plans are disturbed, it affects me strongly.
Affects me? Effects me? Whatever. The problem was wet gloves.
It may not seem like such a big deal to those who don’t understand, but for me to be able to wash my dishes, I have to use gloves. Dry gloves. For without gloves, or with gloves that water has gotten into, my hands literally feel like they are burning the entire time I am doing dishes, and for long after – like sticking my hands into acid, burning.
It is one of my major sensory issues – and one I work around by using gloves.
Well, it wasn’t my turn to cook yesterday, so I had to leave the kitchen for someone else to use (a very difficult thing in itself for me – and the only reason I go along with it is that when other people are here, I get paralyzed, and really struggle to make the meals at all.)
The meal that was made, was not something I would have made – and not one I like much as it is (though to be fair, most meals made here are not for me, since I am plant based, and the others aren’t.) In fact, this meal was one that only the person making it likes, and likes a lot. But it was messy, and used a lot of dishes, and… ended with water all over the counter, which got into my gloves, and brought me to tears as I set my tea down, and picked my gloves up to start on the dishes.
And suddenly everything was overwhelming, which brought me to a very teary meltdown.
Flipping rubber gloves inside out to dry the inside is not an easy thing to do, and not a fast thing to do, and I was very upset about my plans being altered (my necessary plans to get through the dishes which were overwhelming me to begin with.) As I was trying to flip them inside out, and they weren’t flipping well, I got frustrated, and cried out in that frustration as I shook the glove in the air to try and force the fingers out.
“What is going on?” he asked me.
“Someone put something wet on my gloves, and now they are wet inside,” I answered.
“Do you want a new pair,” he asked.
“This is my new pair,” I responded.
“Well, I am very sorry,” he told me.
Great. But do you understand? Do you know why this is so horrible for me? Can you even imagine? My tea is getting cold, and my girls are waiting for me, and I have all these horribly dirty dishes from a meal I didn’t even want that I have to wash by myself, and my hands are going to burn, and my mom is gone, and my children were taken, and…
Your response is telling me that you feel good about forgiving me for being so upset at something you did – and still you leave me to continue this activity that is now going to feel like I had my hands soaking in acid, or bleach because you didn’t think about my gloves being there on the counter (not even that close to the sink, and folded over to avoid getting water in them).
And I will be the one left with the shame of another thing that tells me I don’t deserve to be loved, and everything that goes wrong is my fault – even when it is something you did that hurt me.
And I just want to shout – “Don’t you think that maybe, this time, you are the one needing forgiveness?” And forgive you, I will – but please stop making me feel like I am horrible, and you are merciful, when you do something that causes me pain, and I feel the pain from it – how is that yours to forgive?
I realize it wasn’t done to hurt me. I realize that when you put the dishes there, or cut the vegetables there, or did whatever you did that got the inside of my gloves wet – it was more that the thought of the gloves getting wet never crossed your mind, than that you did it to hurt me, but…
I can also say that, though I have hurt many people in my life, and though sometimes that was a direct consequence of something I did – I never did it to hurt them, either.
I may fail more often than others, and I may hurt people more often than others (it seems my very presence often causes people more pain than they would have had without me) but I don’t think that should bring us to the point where I should apologize when you hurt me.
And I just want you to understand that things that might not seem like much to you, can cause huge amounts of pain and distress for me – and I am not wrong, or unreasonable to feel it.