Emotional exhaustion, perhaps?

What a rough day today has been.  I must admit it was all my own fault.  This body’s fault, anyway.  Piers, in particular, but, as he is part of "me", I must accept responsibility for what he does, as well as what any of us does.

I cannot recall much of the day, honestly.  I was not the one who was out experiencing it, but I know it was tough.  Louis, my inward son, was the one who dealt with much of the day.  That may give constant reader an idea of what kind of day it was.  A frightened (phobic, actually) day, to say the least.

This evening I DO recall, however.  Piers decided, for some unknown reason, to tell Mikey that he could spoil a wet dream.  I have no idea why he said that, but he didn’t anticipate the reaction it got.

Hank, I presume, came out with both barrells loaded.  If it wasn’t Hank, then Mikey has come far in the way of defending himself.

An issue came up.  Masturbation.  Piers asked when was the last time we did that.  Imagine his surprise when the answer was "three nights ago".  In our sleep.

That makes us all feel so dirty and ugly.  The reaction?  "You’re a fucking liar!"

Oh, how adult of you, Piers.

It got so bad that Hank wound up with a razor in the kitchen corner, muttering some words that I heard but do not wish to repeat here.  Over and over, he said it.  Barbara helped some, but Piers actually got off his high horse and came to the rescue, for once.

We held each other.

We talked.

Hank asked me not to make him go away.

I would rather die than send him away.  One reason he said that is that Piers told him to go find a boyfriend, because we don’t satisfy him as we should.

One day, I hope we can rise above this attention-grubbing that we suffer from.

All is better now.  Hank and I just made love, and that always wakes me up instead of putting me to sleep.

Typical bitch, aren’t I?

Love to all….especially that gorgeous red-headed husband of mine,

Betty Louise