Woke up at 4am. Couldn’t go back to sleep. Got really itchy and fidgety. My foot tapping acts as a monotonous lullaby to my girlfriend. She is comforted by its steady beat–calls it a sleepy bunny kick. I, however, wish I did not have to twitch and move all the time. I wish I could drain this excess energy out before bedtime. That would be nice. I went downstairs once I couldn’t get comfortable. Wrote a blog about how I have been feeling consistently “happy” for a good amount of time now. I haven’t cut. I have only wanted to cut probably once in the months that have followed my psych ward vacation. I am over that stage of my life. I consider the act immature, selfish and incapable of truly healing inner pain. Plus, my scars all keloid and my vanity alone would prevent any future episodes.
I still drink, but less frequently and with less intention to forget the world and more to deal with my oft times crippling anxiety. I am still terrified of social interaction, but I can usually psych myself into fraternizing rather than completely alienating myself. I have to pep talk myself into it. But, can usually go through with hanging around people I don’t know well. I have been living with my current roommate, Ashtin, for over three months now and still cannot be in a room alone with her much less make anything other than small talk. I take a very long time to get to know and without alcohol I am not very talkative and extremely awkward. However, with a few drinks in me, I can quickly become something along the lines of the life of the party. I am smart, funny, and interesting…but only when I can let my guard down and calm my nerves enough to open my mouth and stop doubting myself so much.
I finally went back to sleep this morning after my girlfriend’s cat annoyed the shit out of me. I realized that I can be pretty quick to anger when an action that I object to is repeated several times within a short duration. Whether that be by a person…an object…or a pet, in this instance. If she keeps jumping on the counter, keeps pouncing on my face, or keeps knocking something over… usually about three times within a five minute span… I will get incredibly angry at her and snap. I am never going to seriously harm her. But, I have, and will probably again, grabbed her forcibly by the scruff and thrown her harder than I should have away from the current situation. I know that Meg does not approve of this. And I always feel incredibly guilty afterwards. I have had similar instances in the past with my former pets. I have never done serious damage to an animal (I am an avid animal lover and activist), but I have lost my temper and yelled furiously at them… popped them harder and with more repetition than I would have liked… for things that are just dog like or cat like behaviors!
Of course… these blatant inabilities to control my emotions have also been the instigator for my episodes of binge-drinking, wall punching, yelling matches, and cutting tendencies. It is the reason I’m afraid to have kids. Meg has rage episodes symbolic of bipolar disorder, but I know she can control them around children and her cat. I want to learn the same restraint. I have never flipped out at anyone not extremely close to me on a personal level. I am able to bite my tongue and am typically remarkably calm under pressure. I was great at customer service.
Anyways, it angers me when Megan doesn’t correct the cat or even seem to care when she acts out. It bothers me because it’s embarrassing to have a cat that gets her filthy paws all over the kitchen countertops…not only in private, but also when we have company. She will jump on the table when people are eating–try to steal food off of their plates. She will jump on the mantles and knock breakable items over. Cats do not understand circumstantial situations. They have to be dealt with with an iron fist. Just like with dogs… you can’t give them an old shoe to chew on and expect them to be able to tell the difference between a junk shoe and a three hundred dollar designer pair.
I think I get just as frustrated with her as I do the cat. That’s probably not fair.
I fell back asleep holding my girlfriend. I feel safest and most calm during these intimate moments. I pet her head, grasp her hand, and just feel the warmth between the two of us. I love her with everything I have inside. She is what keeps me from faltering in life.
After I woke up this afternoon (2 o’clock. EEEESH!), I could tell that I was not in a great mood. I was instantly irritated that Meg was up and I wasn’t. She was showering and making plans for the day without me involved. She was trying to be nice and let me sleep in. I felt that she was judging me with that comment. Then she was getting ready and was using the bathroom mirror and for some reason I felt entitled to be let into the small space so that I could brush my teeth/wash my face. I got irritated by this and made a point to be upset and used the bathtub faucet instead.
Then I changed clothes–glanced in the mirror and felt fat. I already had trouble getting out of bed because of image issues. My face is a nightmare right now. I have had problems with acne since before I can even remember–as far back as 4th grade. It’s been incessant ever since. And although it’s less severe now (by far) than it has been at times in the past. It’s still a struggle. Right now it’s not THAT bad, but I have one cyst that is proving to be troublesome. It’s incredibly embarrassing and right smack dab in the middle of my brow. I refuse to let anyone see me without my glasses because thankfully they cover a good portion of it. I won’t even let Megan look at me without makeup on. And recently I can’t even make myself look good with it on. It’s kind of lose-lose. I would like to be able to just not deal with facial imperfections anymore. As soon as I don’t have acne anymore I’ll have wrinkles to worry about. Yay.
But, when my body is as disturbing to the eye as my face–then we have a problem. I immediately felt that I couldn’t leave the house. I would have to remain in the dark all day…alone and mopey-face for the duration of this Monday afternoon. I told her I couldn’t go with her out on her errands because I had to work out because I was fat. She said she felt fat too. But, I made the comment that she is at least capable of over-looking that matter enough to get the fuck out of the house and go about her life. I’m not. I dropped out of college in the end because my unrealistic expectations of perfection prevented me from going to class more than I could handle being absent. That sounds crazy even now.
So, I realized that hiding in the house wasn’t a good idea. I can’t just hide from life every time I hate myself–otherwise I would never get anything done and die poor, alone and in reclusion. This is how I know I am improving… even if just a bit. I CAN make myself do something–but it’s still not easy.
However, my face was so horrid the other day that I couldn’t make myself go to an interview–for a job I really wanted. Another job that I applied for led to an invitation to interview–but, I became immediately disinterested when I learned it was for a customer relations position. I had wanted something more behind-the-scenes working directly with animals instead of with the general public. It’s a good full-time job. I need stability. I need money. They would have hired me. But, I couldn’t make myself do it. I doubt my abilities completely. I can’t handle money. I get flustered and start making petty mistakes. I can’t handle people watching me partake in any cash transactions… or any activity that includes my being scrutinized by another party. I’m not even particularly bad with basic math–multiplication, division, addition, subtraction, etc. I am rather adept at mental math. But, I am just terrified of messing up–of being wrong–of being rushed. So, I’ve eliminated almost ALL part-time jobs because working a cash register or participating in POS transactions is kind of essential.
I’m also terrified of waiting tables because of the potential of being permanently scarred by a customer’s complaints. I am really sensitive to criticism. I also am terrified of memorizing the menus of restaurants, of recommending food I have no understanding of, and by being personally offended by the amount of tips I receive. The drama I’ve heard about amongst restaurant employees also terrifies me–hence why being low on the totem pole as a hostess is definitely off-limits.
So, I don’t know where to work. Or how I’m going to work. I know I’m incredibly smart. I’m personable, funny, and fairly amiable. I’m a capable girl, but am limited by my insecurities.
Anyways, I was taking out my perceived fatness on Megan today. I wasn’t being mean. I was just being short and giving cursory responses to her questions/inquiries/etc. She was being wonderfully understanding asking if I wanted her to just stay in bed with me all day, offering to do the laundry/dishes/ giving me space if I wanted it/needed it. She is amazing to me. And I recognize it. But, can’t say it until after my episodes. She is in a better place than me mentally today. We pull each other up when the other is down. That’s why our relationship is so flawless. We become stronger when the other is weak–never allowing both of us to be depressed at the same time. It’s challenging, but possible.
We are all the other has. We understand the other. We have times were we are incredibly upset, but it’s usually due to a misunderstanding–and we always know that things will be ok. The idea of breaking up is foreign to us. We are in it for the long haul. Neither one of us could live without the other.
I worked out–did a series of ab workouts then lifted weights outside. Clearly there are no immediate results, but it made me feel better. I’ve been working out a lot more than I have in the last three years or so. I watch what I eat. I run 4 or 5 times a week. I do abs daily. I lift weights about 2-3 times a week. I do pull-ups and push-ups. I am making a lot of progress. I have lost 15-20 pounds since January. I can tell I’m competitive with Meg on this level. She’s had her fair share of eating problems/ image issues. We try to not talk about our own personal dilemmas anymore. It would be a trainwreck if we weren’t careful about this. But, I definitely want to look better for her. She has an amazing body. And I feel that I owe that to her. That…and I don’t want to be the ugly fat one in the relationship.
I then tried to make lunch and was irritated that my roommate had eaten my tuna fish. A small issue on the radar, yes? But, I let her fiance borrow one can yesterday–and she just decided to use one ( the last one) today for lunch–without asking. This girl pays no rent (true, I don’t either…not yet), never cleans, is a nightmare in regards to keeping the house tidy, and offers really nothing in regards to the house. I am fastidious about keeping the house orderly. I even cleaned her entire room this weekend when she was out camping. She’s pregnant and I felt bad for her. I got an entire trash bag worth of empty packages and old food containers out of there. An entire cabinet worth of cups. And it took hours to get it clean enough for me to feel proud of what I had accomplished. I even cleared her drain of hair and other mysterious nastiness. I got a thanks. And then I got my tuna fish stolen.
I’m not mad. I wont’ hold it against her. We have stolen her goldfish crackers recently–which I deemed appropriate payment for my maid services. Heh. But, it bothered me so much at that point that I kicked a laundry basked and slammed a cabinet door and was not excited about eating my delicious tuna fish wrap.
I think this boils down more to my inability to be flexible and my adversity to change rather than caring about the food being used. Although…to be fair I just bought that tuna yesterday and we are kind of REALLY broke. I was having issues with feeling fat. I wanted a certain food item that would make me feel healthier. And it wasn’t there. For a moment my life was thrown back into chaos.
So, I came upstairs and pouted and decided to sit down and start writing out a blog of all the shit that happens in my head throughout the day. I’m about to go dress shopping with Megan. She will need support because I know she hates her body right now too and she is going to be a bridesmaid in my roommate’s end-of-July wedding. Luckily I already have one from my sister’s wedding. But, I have to starve in order to feel comfortable in it. Two weeks of limiting my food intake. Fun.
The remainder of the day has seen me seeped in nothing but adoration and love. Once my initial sleep-induced frustrations with my physical appearance and my inconsiderate roommate faded, I have been myself again–in love with my partner and full of hope and joy. I went to the store where I spent sixty dollars and felt awful for doing so–although, my trips are always as succinct and essential as I can possibly make them. I saved ten dollars with coupons and such today, but still felt bad because I had to use Meg’s debit card. Most of the things I purchased were for her, exclusively, yet I always feel regret. We have ten dollars in our account. We had plans to see a movie with my roommate and her fiance–but after the store…and unfortunately my trip to the liquor store…we did not have enough spare funds remaining to go out. Sigh.
I still drink. But, in moderation. Never out of a bad place. And only to induce a good time. Unfortunately, I did not realize how broke we were and spent monney when I shouldn’t have. But, as always, Megan was understanding because I do not drink frequently and because we do have a party to attend this Saturday. I still HAVE to have alcohol in my system to be able to indulge in such social outings. I hope to rectify that in the future.
The rest of the evening was filled with quiet wonderful moments between Meg and myself. I have been catching up with friends on facebook, talking with my mom on the phone, and casually carrying on conversations with my future wife. I will go to bed happy. I will sleep with a smile on my face and embrace the morning when it comes. Til tomorrow.