Updates on Varioius: in Open Diary 2001-2018 (Pre-Prosebox)

Thanks for all the notes left on my last entry. I want so desperately to figure out a way to stop beating myself up for…well…EVERYTHING in my life right now, and that’s why the *ahem* VAGUE question came up.

I had an appointment with the new therapist on Friday. We started out quite mellow, and I guess I was so composed that he told me that I don’t appear to be in distress at all—that I was all poise and put-together. I had to explain that it’s my M.O. Most of the time I hold my falling-aparted-ness on the inside so that nobody will notice something’s upsetting me. I started out talking quite a bit about work. I didn’t really want to address work as much as I wanted to talk relationship stuff, but that’s where we started, and I do have self-esteem issues regarding work that I need to get a handle on, so it’s good that we got that out of the way…

Then we moved on to the relationship stuff, and oh, when the flood gates opened—look out! He had to take notes fast and furiously!! I guess the thing that surprised me most of all was when I cried. Not tears of sorrow, but tears of anger and resentment towards Grrr’s ex-wife and the situation she puts him/us in and the issue of children. It’s such a long story (control, control, control). Maybe eventually I’ll get it out here (I’m sure it will all come out at some point—bits and pieces anyway). But just know that I am shocked by how much this affects me. It shouldn’t. I know it shouldn’t. And that’s one of the things I must address—and quickly. Especially if I want to continue with Grrrr. And that leads us to…

..and oh boy, did I write a whole bunch of stuff here that I just took private. I’ve decided that there are certain things that I don’t need to pick apart publicly, but that need to come out somehow…out of my brain…a private purge.

So I will write an update that will give you the gist (and I’m sorry for the vagueness, but I hope you get it without all of the blood and gore). Let’s see:

I am very much a “by the books” kind of person, while Grrrr likes to do things his own way. I’m the kind of person who will follow a recipe to the letter while Grrr will veer and venture into new flavors and techniques. Yes, I realize that I’m rigid—I need work. I do. And I truly admire that que sera sera trait in Grrrr. He’s had to be flexible all his life (though—with me—he can be incredibly stubborn, too. Sheesh).

So when I see that our relationship doesn’t quite match “the book”, I tend to worry that we’re not going to work out (see? I am such a paranoid freak!!). But Grrrr is working with me to help me see that I’m trying to swim against the current of our unique relationship, and I’m struggling and flailing. I have a hard time relaxing and feeling secure (again, the insecurity!!), and I read relationship books and tend to think doom and gloom when I can’t seem to “fix” everything (when it’s not really broken—I’m doing more harm than good!!).

A great analogy that he gave me the other day: you know how when you try to walk across a room with a very full glass of water and the more you concentrate on not spilling by watching and worrying, you find that the water is sloshing all over the place, but when you relax and just use your peripherals and take it slow and walk comfortably, you’re able to get across the room without losing a drop.

I guess the bottom line for me is to relax and enjoy what we have—not worry about the ex and other issues (though I still worry about the kid issues…gulp).

So we live in a new loft. It’s more open, less private. There’s no hiding from anything there. It’s beautiful, and I love the space, but it’s a shock to my system…not as big a shock as if Grrrr and I had moved into that space originally, but a shock nonetheless. We live together and share everything—the space, expenses, friends we have over, and eventually the kids. I’m not used to sharing (I’m super-private in real life), but I’m sure I’ll get used to it eventually. One saving grace is that we both travel, so we both get our “alone time” that way. One bummer is that we can’t walk around nude (even though I still do!) because of the wrap-around windows!

[note to self: figure out an “escape route” for when we are driving each other crazy]

Friday = F-Day = the Big Four-Oh = Forty = 40.

We’re having a party in our loft—our new space. A new decade. A new me? A new mature me???!! F-That!!

I’ll let you know how it goes!