On this hormonal emotional roller coaster I've been on, it's been tough to stay in my body and not let my mind take me off somewhere where I'm just sure that I am being rejected, neglected or some other ected. Know what happens when you mix someone who is an over-analyzing, communicator with a loner who has only begun to dip his toe in the pool of communication, and then you separate them right after they have an argument? A mess happens, that's what.
For two days I have been sad, lonely, dejected, blah blah blah, whereas Paul has been Mr. Happy-go-lucky on the beach having cookouts and shit. Why? Because there has been nearly no communication. When I feel hurt, I shut down and withdraw, but that absence doesn't strike him as odd because he lives in a world where people barely communicate and it takes him quite a while to notice he hasn't heard from me.
Know how I still know that he has changed and continues to change? Because when I brought this up to him, he quietly listened, was sympathetic and even said he was sorry (*gasp*). When I asked him why, when he heard that my feelings were hurt and I started crying, would he yell at me (of all things!), and he said that he couldn't believe I was crying and it frustrated him and he wanted to "snap me out of it." Snap me out of it? Really? I asked him if that had ever worked before on anyone he has ever met in his whole life, and he admitted that no, it had not, but he was ill-equipped to know what to do because he never sees me acting like that. That part is true. I don't normally have a hair-trigger cry button like that, so I reminded him that when he sees his woman crying, that's his cue to comfort her.... not yell at her. *blank stare*
Now, as simple as this might all sound to you, this is like relationship calculus in these parts. But the good thing is that it's starting to sink in and instead of Mr. Mean, I have a man who is actually pretty damn sweet nearly all of the time and is trying his best to become all that he can be. He hasn't thrown in the towel and has really committed himself to the forward momentum and evolution that was started a year ago. Bravo to you P-Daddy, seriously. If you ever read this, you would know that I am proud of you and all of the ways that you have striven to become a better man, better partner, better Christian. I'm grateful for the hard work you have put in and I appreciate that you see that I am worth the effort.
Just a day or so ago, I was pretty much convinced that you had back-slidden and that we were in for big trouble. But when I saw you trot through the front door with that cute grin on your face and scooped me up in your arms telling me you missed me, and when you kissed me and told me Happy Anniversay, I knew that it was going to be okay. And that feels so much better.
lurve you, xoxo v.
Aren't they beautiful? *swoon* I love them. And they? Look gorgeous together. You know what else I think about them? I think that they would celebrate their anniversary together... even a dating anniversary, not just a married anniversary. Okay, let me back up a little bit. BTW, this blog falls under the category of TMI. Consider yourself warned & stop reading if you're squeemish. Okay, moving on.
I'm sure you remember all of the horror stories from my blogs gone by of my super-serious PMS. Ugh, it was bad. I don't get bitchy or mean, I get S-A-D. I get clinically depressed and see every single word, move or action as a sign of rejection that only reinforces what the universe is already telling me... I am alone and unloved. (*Jazz Handsssssss*). Maddie tends to be a little cranky, but actually is more like me in this department. Courtney? ME-OWWWWW. Seriously. HISSSSSSSSSS She is CRANKY! Okay, that's too nice. She's a down-right BIAAAAAAAA (TCH). I love her, but if she's honest, she'll admit it's true. Imagine all of us sync'd up. Yeah, not pretty. That's why we dubbed it "shark week." It's dangerous, it's aggressive, it's bloody, but there's so much going on you can't avoid watching.
A year ago when Paul & I started dating, I started getting depo shots, which have been a much better experience than when I was in my 20's. I only gained 5 pounds (not 50) and it lets me have a period maybe 2 or 3 times a year. Yep, my hormones were so evened out, I didn't have to participate in shark-week any more. My attitude is so even-keeled most of the time that when it comes time for one of those semi-annual visits from Flo, it's an incredible shock to my system. I forget what it's like to feel so lonely and dejected.
Well... as with most things in life, don't get too attached to the good stuff, because it doesn't last! You know how lupus can attack anything in your body? Well, guess what it wanted to attack now? My uterus! This happened once before right after Courtney was born, but not since. I guess my body was really pissed at me for all that chemo & steroids business, so it decided to hit me below the belt. Literally. I woke up in the middle of the night, out of the blue, hemorrhaging. Seriously heavy duty stuff. I would put on a tampon and a pad and they would be soaked through within 10 or 15 minutes. I couldn't go anywhere, had to call off work, etc. I called my doctor, they had me take a bunch of motrin because of the anti-prostiglandin effects, hoping that would help. Well, it didn't. For over a month I lived like this. Finally, I called my doctor back and informed her that I was dying and that she needed to do something about it before I bled out. They had been checking my blood and my blood count was beginning to drop, so they prescribed me heavy-duty estrogen birth control pills and said to take several the first day, a couple the next day, then finish out the pack one at a time. WONDERFUL! The bleeding stopped on day 2 and I was a happy girl!
Well, as you all know, when you stop a pack of b.c. pills, what happens? You get your period. Everyone was hopeful that everything would just fall right back into place and it would go quickly, normally and lightly. HA! Nope. Within a few days I was going even more forcefully than before, with MASSIVE clots (grapefruit sized, at least). So, this time the doctor decided to hit me heavy and prescribed me FOUR packs of b.c. pills and I have to take them ALL within one month! That is A LOT of hormones to be flooding my body! Guess what all the hormones brings with it??? That's right.... moodiness and feeling rejected! (Yay!) (Not).
All that messiness to say that after a year of hormone vacation, I am back to the full-throws of rejection reactions. I try not to, but it's not voluntary. Every experience I have comes to me through this filter. Even my therapist no longer accepting my insurance, so I won't be able to go back for a new round of sessions once the Evil One gets out of prison in December like we had planned.
The coup de gras in this estrogen nightmare is that I had my first argument with Paul in four months this morning and although he is a completely different version of his old self, he can still be a real jerk (even if only a few times a year), so I was completely in the right for standing my ground and being mad at him. The thing that caught me by surprise was my reaction to this argument. I was SOOOOOO hurt!!! I mean, I felt it. Every single little raw neurofiber of my being felt rejected and I cried so hard it felt like my entire soul was sobbing. I was so sad! I did my best to snap out of it because I had to go to work, but this funk stayed with me all day.
Add to that? Tomorrow is our one-year dating anniversary. Yeah. What do all y'all think about that? Not about us, just about dating anniversaries? I'm of the persuasion that it is to be celebrated. It acknowledges this person's presence in your life, it is a milestone that says we are no longer newly dating and are hanging in here for the long-haul. And? I'm not married, so it's all I've got bitches!!! Don't begrudge me my one special day! You get a ring! You have wedding pictures! Okay, so I digress.
Anyways, Paul is of the persuasion that dating anniversaries shouldn't even exist. They are only cause for drama and are stupid and ridiculous unless you are married, and then they are only slightly less ridiculous. I cried myself to sleep after that conversation. Why? Rejection. Why else. I'm telling you, I have been in one heck of a delicate state lately. Someone needs to rubber-stamp "FRAGILE" across my forehead.
So do you think he's going to do anything tomorrow? For starters, he's in San Diego with his kids at a football tournament for five days, completely GONE for this momentous day, only to reinforce that it's not a priority for him. The issue is that I've let him know in no uncertain terms that it IS important to ME. Therefore, it should become important to him and then he should act accordingly. It really hurt my feelings.... estrogen or no estrogen... that it's such a non-issue to him. And then after this morning's argument? Yeah, my guess is on nothing happening tomorrow, which will be just so unfortunate. I look forward to him pleasantly surprising me. If he doesn't? I've been trying for a week to figure out how I will feel about that and what that means for me.
He did acknowledge it. In a very small, private way. Not sure how I feel about that, but whatever. He did acknowledge it. We haven't spoken since, because we're both still pouting after our argument. Oh well. Done and over with.
lurve you, xoxo v.