Just like a boiler, people have to have relief valves when the stress and pressure builds to critical levels. My husband and I have been together for over three years and after these past three weeks, I’ve finally learned what his personal relief valve is. It’s been a long time coming.
Several months ago, my parents decided to sell their house and move somewhere they could retire. So, like family does, we offered whatever help we could. Chris even helped rebuild a three level deck on the back of their home after the inspector discovered it was rotted. Once all the work was done they were to stay with us after closing until the funds were posted in their account. This would be two or three days at most.
That was February 17th.
My epiphany started with the removal of a stump in the back yard. It was an old over grown ornamental tree gone bad. We dug and dug then used the hatchet to cut the roots. It took almost an hour for the last root to relinquish its hold on the earth and Chris was blind with rage. That goddamned stump was coming out and it was coming out right then.
When all was said and done, Chris had thrown the stump over six feet and dropped into a catatonic state leaving him unable to remember what happened. When I went to put the stump in the green container a day later I couldn’t lift it – and I’m fairly strong. I had to lay the container down and roll the stump into it.
This incident didn’t help. He didn’t feel better. Check.
Needless to say it’s continued to be a powder keg just waiting for sparks. One evening after we’d found out my parent’s realtor had withheld some rather important information about their closing leaving them stranded at our house for almost a month, Chris stepped out in the garage and let fly.
He ranted. About nothing particular, he yelled and foamed and just generally said anything and everything he needed to say. Yes, he raised his voice. Yes, everyone heard. Yes, this upset my mother but I assured her his yelling was not directed at me. It was just directed outward.
By the end of the evening we were all laughing and talking as if nothing had happened. Chris’ anger and stress level dropped back to normal – for him – levels.
For these past three years we’ve been searching for a stress reliever for him. Hell, we’ve even tried yoga. Nothing worked. Not even getting out my old boxing equipment and running him through a couple of rounds. Punching a heavy bag seemed to make him angrier and in the end the bag was laying on the ground being pummeled.
Ranting is a relief valve for him. He got all the things he needed to say out of his mind, off of his chest, and felt lighter. Better. Rant, baby, rant.
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