I guess when something becomes the most likely reason you will die, you learn to pay attention to it more. Like I am with my heart.
I can feel it's shenanigan's. The watch #1 son gave me does ECG's, and that lets me *see* what shenanigan's look like in terms of heart rhythm.
Well, I just walked into the kitchen, and herself is making us a lovely breakfast. Amongst other things she's doing, she put blobs of canned cat food on the floor for the kittens. Right in front of the fridge. Many blobs. Like a fucking minefield. In front of the fridge. Where the cream for my coffee lives.
Yeah.... I actually felt that spike of anger. In my chest.
That can't be good. That it made me angry is silly, but I'm human too. That I felt the anger reflected in my heart's rhythm is scary.
Now I'm thinking about all those years I was married, with kids, and practically seethed with anger daily at the mental and emotional abuse. I'm wondering how much of where I'm at now is a reflection of what I lived then.
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