Miffed in Palm Springs

Big clash last night God, and i am almost thrilled at how it sours the whole evening. I don't think he understands, just how self-mutilative i can be. A true ragaholic, i have no qualms about how much i destroy and how much goes down in flames.
These days, i am so struck by the very lack of core that a ragaholic possesses. It's not unlike any addict. Beneath all that rage, there is nothing, no-one worth fighting for. Hence, there really isn't any argument about how much our own destructive behavior hurts us. There isn't anyone to hurt in here. Just lots of people OUT THERE.
Last night, empowered by the presence of my parents, my husband got to be as vocal as he ever was. i got to experience, the joy the sheer joy of being on the other end of illogical rage. Wow, that is what it's like for someone to act completely out of line, have 2 people witness it and me have nothing to do with it. He ranted and raved like a little spoilt child, and then went against everything he blamed me for, and my mother sighed at the sheer illogic of it. Even my parents "punished" him with 30 minutes of silence -- he was completely out of line and i disappeared into a book while he can soak into his non-ra-rahness. It felt good to have an environment that is finally congruent. In his family, someone would change the subject and then everyone would act like nothing is wrong.
But this morning, some part of me is trying to love myself, even if all of me wants to set him in flames. That my kids, my parents, this trip deserves better. That even with 3 bottles of wine, his crazy sleeping habits, and watching my parents bicker, this has to be a trip worth taking for me.
To enjoy the kids and the surroundings, as if there was no one here at all. Just me, just the warm sun and the beautiful trees. Lots to be grateful for: a dissociative husband who is willing to lose himself in the kids -- more time for me. A cuddly college bear, who is providing all the endorphin highs i need when pressing his hard nose against my fingernails, lots of food.
I'm definitely realizing the anesthetic quality of my Kindle, that if i wake up in the middle of the night, and i can't sleep the backlit quality of the Kindle, the grounding texts of my favorite authors, they do the perfect job Melatonin is suppose to do.
Yesterday, i found out that if i drowned myself in a book -- everything around me melts away. i am lost in Pema Chodron, Brene Brown and the others.