Aggressive Tendencies

I hate that I am weak and cannot say what it is I want with confidence. Hell, if I don’t believe it, who will? I recognize a need to stop my passive-aggressive tendencies. I fear being labeled as an aggressor; I can no longer be passive.

The worlds of my universe seem to be colliding and I must play air traffic controller lest one problem will be assumed into another.

My husband and I have been dancing to a strange tune lately. The record plays round and round, but never seems to end. I feel the pull physically, psychologically, chronologically and logically in the direction of starting the family. Hubby is going through his own motions. He feels a pull in the opposite direction. He clearly isn’t ready for the fatherhood chapter; that coupled with my own fear, leaves a lot of room for ambiguity. The tug-O-war of passive aggressiveness is as follows: he wants me to say with certainty that a child is what I want. He is testing me in some ways. On the other hand I want for him to want it, too. I want him to console and quell my fears. I want for him t feel my pain of the clock rather than make me feel bad for the omnipresent tick-tock. We clearly are not on the same page.

I have a fear of stating my innate desires aloud. I want what he wants. I want him to be a man and take this step. I am saddened that he expects me to shoulder the burden, yet doesn’t validate my fears of further putting off pregnancy and of my fears of loss of energy with age. I feel he is being selfish, but fear saying it out loud. Yet, I think he needs for me to take charge because of his fears.

Colliding on the right hemisphere is the big white elephant: my brother. A recent visit home has disturbed me to a point of no return. I am sick with sadness and anger over the choices he is making. I cannot play nice anymore. I know I have to take care of me and confront my fears surrounding his illness which parallels my father’s abandonment. My father’s suicide is me and is ingrained in every fiber of my being without my knowledge of it being so. I cannot face my brother because he is the ghost of my father. Yet, I cannot ignore it any longer, for my sanity, his health and for the love for my mother. I am once again called upon to take charge and to play “I spot the white elephant in the room”, because there is no one else. All my life I have waited for my Mom, an Aunt, an Uncle, someone to bail us out and it never materialized. I must show my true feelings at any cost as to stop this fairytale and save my mother from her imprisonment of self-blame. I must release my brother even though it means ripping hearts out of place.

I face similar challenges at work in my role as the leader of a fairly-sizable non-profit program.

I feel my whole world is waiting for me to mature and say, “I’ve had enough. I need this… I will not tolerate that…”

Please pray that I have the strength, for I need your help.