Blind Terror

What's the phrase?  Count to ten if you are going to post angry?  Meh, I am past angry about what happened, but am just wondering whether I should post, even after counting to about two thousand by now.

So yes, not angry.  Maybe still in a bit of shock, but not angry.

So yes, the evening was going along okayish, along the lines of the last post.  I was distracted feeling what I was feeling at the moment, but managed to make a sweet pie (for dessert) and dinner.  Dinner okay, but lost in my own thoughts, Mistress and Sir and I were going to talk about my issues with self esteem and self worth after the kids went to bed.

Then Sir had an issue with the bin.  The bag inside wasn't tied on correctly.  Of course, I was the one who did it, and to be honest I get frustrated at how finicky he is about the bin bags.  Nothing can show on the outside, and there can't be big gaps on the inside.  It is hard enough to get the setting correctly on the outside of the bin, and I mistakenly left too much of the inside bin showing.  I did the sigh of frustration thing, and I think things just escalated from there.

Sir said to come over to him.  I took off my glasses.  He said to stand outside for twenty minutes, he didn't want to see me for that time.  As I was leaving the kitchen, he added not to stomp, otherwise we would have another conversation about that.  As I was opening the door I shouted over my shoulder that I thought we were already going to have a conversation tonight.  Sir was not pleased, and stormed down the hallway towards me.  My fight or flight instinct kicked in, and I didn't run away, but neither was I going to fight.  I just stood waiting for the storm to hit.

He grabbed me by the throat, pushing me down the back steps, and then put his other hand around the back of my throat for a split second.  I truly truly thought I was going to get thrown across the back yard, fully paved as it is, and suffer whatever injuries that would entail.  I admit, I was shrieking like a little girl at this stage.  He was looming over me, saying have I touched you yet, have I hit you.  Mistress had come out and took my glasses and phone away from me - still worried about those glasses.  I managed to eventually say yes you have touched me, you have hit me, by strangling me around the throat.

He eventually let go of me and said go out to the back room in the garage.  Where there is absolutely nothing to do.  Lay down on the floor and counted to the aforementioned two thousand, listening to the sounds of the household across the backyard.  When I thought I hadn't heard the kids for a while - yes, the kids were up - I went back in.

Mistress gave me my phone and my glasses, and said Sir doesn't want to see you or hear you for the rest of the night.  I said but I am depressed and was hoping to talk whatever is going on with me out.  I heard Sir around the corner say didn't I make my instructions very specific.  Mistress said we won't talk about stuff when you are in this state, and I collapsed in on myself, fell down the side of the wall.  Mistress whispered harshly, not in front of my children!  I had reasonable situational awareness and knew that the kids weren't in viewing range of me, and I hadn't even made a squeak at that point.

So I went back out to the garage.  After Mistress started doing the countdown that she does with the kids when she is uber angry at them.  And discovered that my phone was flat.  I swallowed what courage I had left and went back in.  To get my phone charger.  Which was in sight of Sir.  Both he and Mistress were amazed to see me, and not in the good way.  I explained myself, in about three words.

Sir said collect your things, collect your phone charger, and your computer and go back into the back room.  Don't say a word.  We will decide when we next want to see you.  I opened my mouth and got the 'don't even' glare.  I was only going to ask would it be tonight or what.  When I heard the phrase 'collect your things' I was certain the next phrase was going to be 'you are out of here'.  And my stomach went to jelly at the mere possibility.

Will it be two minutes, will it be two days.  Awaiting execution.  When I wasn't in the best frame of mind to begin with before all of tonight's stuff.  I am doing my best, but it obviously isn't best enough.