Today I’m grateful for feeling…
Frustrated that it feels like a full time job scaling back my emotional flashbacks. Like they just pop up and now that I can identify them, it’s so much more often than I thought. I have tools now, and I take the time to deescalate and soothe. I’m just a bit tired of it, of always being vigilant with myself, always having to take care of some need. Neglecting yourself is just so much less conscious work. Although, for my complaining, I probably have more overall energy and peace that I’m not appreciating as I ought to. The good stuff doesn’t make me want to scream like the challenges so it’s hard to remember them.
Reluctant, maybe even regretful, when I think of softball starting next week. It’s so fucking hot and humid. Every day the newspapers tell us of heat warnings and being careful doing things outside, let alone playing a sport! I keep asking myself why I’m doing it, and the answer is Cubu. If Cubu is progressing towards Parkinson’s, I don’t want to miss a moment of physically playing together. I want to be supportive, be a good partner. How much of this is codependence? On one hand, I’m ignoring a desire/self-protective need. On the other, I’m not compulsively joining just because he is. I’m the one that got us into softball in the first place. I’m joining out of a legitimate fear that there could be a limit to our future sports. Is that still codependence? I want a manual. Another problem is I already signed up and because of the way intramural sports work, if they have one less female I don’t know if they can play. It wasn’t my responsibility before signing up but it feels like it is now, as a team member.
Frustrated, angry even, that Cubu is dragging his feet on calling the sleep clinic. I wish he could just schedule it for him and get it done. I’ve been avoiding nagging him because I don’t want that to be my role, and I understand him stalling out of fear. But his stalling doesn’t change anything, it just deprives us of information that we need to shape our future. Will he slowly become disabled? Will I become a caretaker? Do we need to be doing every super physical thing we can in the next couple years? And in the short-term, do I need to be on this softball team?? I guess it is codependent, since I should prioritize my own needs over his regardless, especially if I don’t want to play this badly. There’s a quantity > quality issue here.
Paralyzed. I can’t for the life of me seem to open my scrapbooks like I’m supposed to. In theory, seeing myself at the age of abuse with my new knowledge will open something in me and I just don’t want to be opened. I’m alternatively scared of looking at them and nothing happens, that I’m so clogged it doesn’t do anything. I won’t know any of this until I try. But there never seems to be enough time, enough space, enough security, for me to look at it. I feel like I’d have to choose a day where the whole evening is free, just in case it really fucks me up. …What if I remember something? I’m just so sad and scared when I think of my younger selves. I guess I feel incapable of recovering from how much pain I think I hold. The irony is the only way is through; I won’t have that confidence unless I try and succeed. Garbage. Dogshit, all of it.
Feelin’ good…
- began and made progress on these foam cubes Cubu and I have been trying to get moving on for probably 8 months now. They’re the base for the custom coffee table I’m going to build to go on top of them so it’s an important project for the functionality of the house. Our coffee table in the meantime has been a prototype so we could test some design ideas, but ended up being juuuust useful enough that we didn’t feel pushed to do the real work. I’m grateful to have the means to do creative projects like this that customize our home, and that between the two of us, we can build most things.
- after writing about how I can’t look at the scrapbooks I realized maybe I can? I just had to process that fear first. I didn’t get as far as the scrapbooks but I did open the bin and spend time with a childhood photo in a frame that was on top. I finally cried some! Not a lot but it was a start. A childish voice repeating “How could he do this to me” on loop. The grief knocked me out for the rest of the afternoon/evening. I’m really glad I was able to start, I’m going to keep the bin open so it’s easier to access.
- Cubu held me as I cried again, I’m so grateful to have such a supportive partner. I can’t imagine someone can be better than he is at comforting during crying. Then again, I’ve never had that before him so he’s my only frame of reference.
