I never though I would fear coming home. There is a difference between hating coming home because you argue a lot with the people there, or because it is a mess, or something. But I am at work about to clock out and I think with relief, “Yes, I am finally done. I can go home!” But just as my thought finishes I think, “damn it. I have to go home.”
My heart rate goes up as soon as I park the car. My heart rate. The only thing that ever does that to me are spiders, so to find that the thought of going home is causing that too, well, that’s terrifying.
What’s crazier is that I am still contemplating a bit about staying. I feel like I shouldn’t, that it is time. At the same time I feel like to stay, this problem can be fixed. But am I being too positive? Or am I too scared for the unknown? For the discomfort?
The rain doesn’t make me feel any better. But now it does…because I am finally inside, in pajamas. and he was asleep.