All In Good Time

I am all moved in, minus a few miscellaneous items at the old place. I should feel good about being moved in, unpacked, set up. I am very thankful for my friends who have helped me. This process has been difficult and I finally recognize why. The last move in my mind was always temporary. I never got settled in because I knew I wouldn't be there forever. But I never really considered forever at all... I am on my own, for real, and it is permanent. 

I am unpacked mostly with a home set up, thanks to two awesome friends. But I am feeling a great amount of anxiety and to be completely honest, want to be anywhere but here in my new home all alone. I've been asked why I am so open in my blog, and part of it is that it is a therapeutic process. Another part is that maybe there is someone out there struggling in a similar way who needs to know they aren't alone. And lastly, I have read several blogs that lack a realness and don't show the ugly, low, gritty, difficult parts of life. I want to read that. I want to show that. Because it's real and everyone has hardship at some point. I rarely verbalized this to my friends or family, so writing in a blog is safe. I can't see who reads it. I don't know if I'm being judged. But it's real. All me. Out there on the table. 

So how am I feeling? Anxious. Sad. Scared shitless. Because I'm really alone. I'm starting over and it's so damn scary. And I'm not good alone. This place, set up nicely with all my artwork and nicknacks hanging on the walls and books on the shelves, still feels empty. I need to find the warmth to add to it.I need to make it a home. 

I wish I didn't have this anxious pit in my stomach, which I can only describe as similar to a homesickness a kid feels the first few nights at sleep away camp. It's not that I miss my parents, but I miss companionship. I miss normalcy. I miss a stable routine. This home not being a home yet leaves me scared and still and unmotivated. I just keep telling myself it will get better; easier; less of a struggle. I reassure myself that in a day or so I will no longer cry or feel a nagging emptiness. I will find my groove and get back on track. In time. All in good time.

To end things on a more positive note, my cleverly arranged quaint kitchen with its funky shelves and chalk board wall, has inspired me to want to learn how to cook. I want to fill my house with sweet smells of delicious meals. I want to bring joy to a home and into my life.

Relationships Are Hard

The question of care came up in a rather heated conversation with my husband tonight on my way to the gym. We've been together a decade (literally) and you would think that after all that time we would know exactly how to care for one another when we are sick or feeling low. But we don't...

He is suffering from sinus allergies or some mild head cold and as a result is incredibly irritable. I should honestly know better than to approach him with opinions or advice. It's just not received well when he's in this condition. I should know this by now, right?! But I did the exact opposite and he erupted in anger. Guess I was asking for it...?

In the thick of the angry exchange we touched upon the topic of care. I do not know how to care for him how he wants. After ten years I apparently care for him how I want to be cared for, not how HE wants. I never stopped to think I was doing it wrong; bringing him a blanket when he wants a hot meal. I have been being emotionally there for him when he wanted to get a neck massage and then to be left alone. 

It begs the question of why didn't he speak up and correct it? Why not just say what you need? It's not being polite in my opinion if you're just going to throw it back in my face in a later argument. 

To get a bit personal here, when I get my period I want to be approached gently, fed and reassured. I want love and sympathy. Until recently this was not how I was cared for and so I spoke up. He has tried really hard to care for me in a way that makes me happy that is completely opposite from his natural inclination. I need to do the same.

I think that the people we were ten years are drastically different from who we both are today and so our ways of caring need to be adjusted accordingly. I feel sadness for the argument and while I don't think it's fair to verbally lash out at someone because of feeling ill or exhausted, I should have done everything differently. 

I can't believe I'm still learning how up coexist after so many years. I can't believe that we have changed so much. This year I will work harder on recognizing other peoples needs and making sure that not only am I happy, but so are they. 

Let You In - Shut Me Out

I have written and erased the start of this blog four times. I don't know why, but I feel like nothing is good enough. I feel like no subject is interesting enough to write about; like nothing I write is worthy. I think I may be projecting.

I have a bit of a heavy heart at the moment and am doing a lot of reflecting these days. That shift I wrote about hasn't changed, in fact it may be worse. I feel like everything is awkward without cause. Like one day out of the blue there was no more of the normal I was used to and awkwardness has become the constant. I miss the normal way of things. Is it me? Did I do something wrong to disrupt the balance of the universe? Sigh.

I'm still me, same old strange, crazy me...right? I may just be a more emotional version with a giant heart full of care and good intentions that I struggle to show the right way. But it's still me. 

Is this interesting yet? Blog worthy? I still don't think so... Is it more interesting when I get personal? I know that the more intimate the information the more we feel like we are special and "in the know", but I struggle. I am torn between wanting to share to not only get it out but to maybe help someone else going through the same thing and the thought that my really personal issues are nobody elses fucking business. 

I am worried that when you read this you will only see me for my flaws; for all the issues I am battling and not for the other parts of me that make me whole. I worry that I will never be the same to you and that my life will seem like a giant complaint. If I truly let you in I hope you don't shut me out. 

This is one of my deepest worries and deepest struggles; and one of the biggest reasons why I try to act like its all okay.