Locked doors

I arrive home late on purpose after I know she’ll be in bed ( #fawn-response ) . Both the front door and the back door are locked. Both doors also have keys stuck in the locks on the inside ( #control #punishment ) . I have no choice, I have to phone her to get up and let me in. She gets up, opens the door and fake apologizes claiming she didn’t mean to ( #fake-empathy #manipulation ) .

She’s fumbling and trying to hang the key back in its spot inside near the door. The fumbling continues for what seems like an eternity. The door is open while the fumbling is happening, it’s cold and windy. I reach in to take the key from her with a view to stepping inside, closing the door, turning on the light (yes, this is happening in the dark just ‘cuz’) and hanging the key again.

She gets offended and accuses me of grabbing the key and getting aggressive with her ( #projection #darvo ) . She goes on and on about it while I hold my breath for fear of saying anything that might escalate it ( #fawn-response ) . It ends, she goes back to bed.

She didn’t mean to lock me out, no? I walk into the kitchen. The breadboard has been confiscated for some reason. Oh, and so have the scissors ( #control #punishment ) .

I’m being punished for something but I’ve no idea what ( #punishment #narcissistic-injury ) .

Anyway… that’s life I guess. Totally daft.