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As Scott looked around the kitchen in horror, my rage turned into shame, and I ran to our bedroom, crying hysterically.I tried to explain to him that I couldn’t help it, or that it certainly felt that way. Even though I could tell when it was coming, I didn’t know how to stop it. I knew it was wrong, and it always zapped me of so much energy, but I felt powerless over it.But he was under the impression that after many years of counseling and taking antidepressants, I was healthy again.He didn’t know that just weeks before we met, I had been suicidal again. Falling in love with Scott brought a lot of joy and excitement to my world, as well as new friends and situations.But there was a snowstorm forecast to hit that night, and our friends, who lived about an hour away, called to say they weren’t coming because they didn’t want to take the chance of getting stuck in bad weather.I had been unable to sleep for about a week straight.There were more bad days than good ones, and sometimes even my good days weren’t all that good.
The first time he encountered “The Wrath of Julie” was just a few months after we were married. I had worked so hard cleaning the house, and I’d done all the grocery shopping for the elaborate (and probably too difficult meal I had planned.
My sense of reality and my ability to reason virtually disappear.
On a “typical” bad day, I know that tomorrow is a new beginning, and I believe that God allows everything to work together to fulfill some grand plan of His.
Planning a huge meal and making the house look spotless gave me something to do as my thoughts raced and my body fought to find rest.
But when I found out our friends weren’t coming, I lost it.