Another Saturday

My letter to Gen sums up my Saturday. 

Hi Gen, thank you for thinking of me on a chaotic day of yours. I really feel bad for all the trouble and anxiety you had to go through for just one power surge. I wish I could say that my day was good but it wasn’t entirely good. I’m now finally in my rose bubble bath with rose petals and scented candles so I could type this letter. Here it is: [image of my bathtub]

This morning my kids had lots of fun decorating our house for Halloween with me; it was just the three of us. They were so excited that they kept hugging and kissing me. In the afternoon I took them for shopping and then dinner at Sushiro. When we were shopping, some uptight women told my kids, half joking half serious, that they needed to be quiet and behave well, right in front of my face. It gets on my nerves when random people discipline my kids on my behalf. I took a deep breath and decided not to say anything, as if I didn’t hear those women, but I was already hypervigilant about their behaviors. Then at Sushiro, my older son was tired and hungry so he couldn’t control his behavior. He was playing with the windows protecting the conveyor belt and one window slipped out and fell onto the table next to us and disturbed the other customers. I quickly apologized on his behalf and then yelled at him. The waitress came and he made another window slip out onto our own table, right in front of the waitress. This time I slapped him on his arm and yelled at him again. 

I regretted my behavior immediately after. I hate myself for being the one hurting my child but I was afraid if I didn’t do so someone else would hurt him. Other random adults have yelled at him and other children have hit him for his inappropriate behaviors in public when I am not physically close enough to immediately stop or correct his behavior. I’d rather let these angry strangers see that I was already angry at my child so that they would not get angry at him; I’d rather be the one hurting my child than let random strangers hurt him.

Then I kept thinking, if I could calm myself and didn’t yell or hit him, what would happen to us? I think those people would yell at me or at him, just like the noodle shop incident. 

The noodle shop incident was something that happened in spring this year, and it was one of the most painful things that happened earlier this year and led to my decision to divorce. Here’s the email I wrote to my family about what happened:

After work today I picked up the kids from their school. It was a full day of school for Big Bro so he was very hungry and wanted to buy noodles from the noodle shop near us. He really tried to order the food on his own and we had been rehearsing what to say multiple times. We were waiting in line for our turn.

Then a young man with a backpack in front of us finished his order. He turned back to us and said to me "watch your child." Big Bro didn't do anything to him. After I finished our order, I kept staring at him, and he saw me stare at him, and then I went to talk to him.

I asked, "Did my child touch you?"

He said, "Yes he brushed my backpack."

I said, "Did you see how narrow the space is for lining up? Was I not watching him? There are other people who brushed me and I don't say anything."

He said, "Your child brushed me and you should watch him. Should I apologize for your child brushing my backpack? I am going to record this."

He was getting his phone out. I raised my voice, "My child is a minor so don't you dare record him. Also he's autistic. If you film me, I can film you too."

Then, some random loser dining at the restaurant turned to me and said, "you guys can take your discussion outside. This is a place for people to eat."

I took Big Bro outside to wait for our food and I kept staring at that lunatic. The more I stared at him, the harder he laughed. I suspected that he was mentally deranged, and yet he was so articulate. I fucking wanted to kill him. Then he came outside to smoke and said to me, continuing to laugh, "I have all day to spend with you."  I said, "who taught you to talk like this? Where is your ethics? Were you not born and raised by your mother?" I said to him, "if you're so afraid of narrow spaces and being brushed by others, I recommend you move somewhere rural without anyone."

There were more exchanges between us. At one point Big Bro tried to hold his hand, and it made him laugh sarcastically. I yelled at Big Bro, "This man is bullying you." This man said, "Even your child knows that you should go now. You're so funny."

Our food was ready and I asked the cashier, "that guy is somewhat psychotic right?" The cashier said, "possibly. When you encounter someone like that, don't waste your time and just leave." 

I am so fed up with the world; they are so fucking selfish that there is no room left for my children. Even if this man is mentally deranged, I have no sympathy for him. I wish that his psychotic episode takes place tonight and he ends his life right there. The world doesn't have enough oxygen and space for losers like that. 

After we got home, I asked Big Bro, "Do you know why mommy is very scared and very sad? There was a man bullying you. He was a bad man."

Big Bro said, "And Big Bro wanna go to mommy's white car and scream." I think he's telling me how he has felt from some other similar incidents at school but he doesn't have the words to describe what happened.

Why are we so alone in this world?

———

This email led to my divorce because after I sent it and verbally told my ex-to-be what happened, he said only one thing, “just for brushing his backpack?” I cried after I got home and he was silent and didn’t say or do anything. His family said nothing besides, “I’m sorry. I hope you feel better,” as if everything was only my problem. If he or anyone in his family had said something compassionate, I probably wouldn’t decide to divorce. When I look back, the most warmth I got in the entire incident was from the cashier, someone who told me to just swallow my pain. How ironic. 

When I got pregnant, I swore I’d never lift a finger on my child; I swore this even before I was married. But then, nobody ever told me or taught me what I should do if my child couldn’t understand language, had impulsive behaviors that he couldn’t control, no one could reason with him, other people could physically hurt him because he sometimes physically hurts them by accident, and he couldn’t understand danger. 

Ahh. This is too heavy. I wish I could have said something that could cheer you up. Oh well, I had a facial treatment last night and my skin was glowing afterwards, and I thought that should have been a precursor to a chill weekend.