Monday, December 12, 2011

Diary of an Insane White Woman

Me:  Hey.

You:  Um, hey.

Me:  So, do you wanna meet my own worst enemy?

You:  Uh, sure.

Me:  Can you guess who it is?  I'll give you a hint.  He/She is in this room right now.

You:  Uh, there's just you and me in here.  Are you saying I'm....

Me:  OMG.  Can't you stop thinking that the entire world revolves around you for one minute???  Geez.  It's not you, it's me!

The continuing saga of Cymbaline - The World's Biggest Mess.  It hit me, in the shower of all places on Friday afternoon.  Why can't I ever just be, you know, happy?  For more than a day at a time.

Flash back.  Wednesday night, he tells me he loves me.  Thursday I'm walking on air.  By Friday?  I'm worried that I can't keep the blog going.

Welcome to the world of an insane lunatic.

Sigh - I know I have issues with worrying about things.  And to my credit, i generally worry about real issues - there are plenty enough of those that I don't usually have to make up fake ones.  But seriously?  Can't I allow myself a happy time?  I feel like I sabotage myself when I allow my brain to get in my way.

It doesn't take a genius therapist to understand WHY I'm like this.  I went 20 years without any good things happening to me.  All 20 years of my life.  So I assume that good things don't happen to me.  I always wait for the next shoe to drop (that's the right expression right?  Or is it the other shoe to drop?  Whichever.  Some shoe is dropping).  And yes, in the last year, things have improved.  No denying.  School, the job, David and to a lesser extent Tova (who is suffering with a myriad of problems but is still churning along).  These are good things.  Happy things.  Exciting things.  And here I am, waiting for the next/other shoe to drop.  I can't help it.  I'm working on it, but I can't help it.

So the majority of responses seem to imply agree that I can't keep the blog a secret from him.  Well you know what?  That's ok.  And I'll tell you why.  Because in the end he will be ok with it.  maybe he won't quite get "this whole blog thing" or making connections with people you've never met, but he'll be ok with it.  Because it's important to me.  The same way his obsession with football and fantasy sports and hockey and basketball and baseball (zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz) is important to him even though I don't really get it.

And I guess that's the nature of love right?  You but up with your loved one's shenanigans because you love them.  And i feel confident that he loves me enough o put up with my shenanigans.

So now if you will excuse me, me and my worst enemy are going to go and be happy.

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