Lots of Crying

This is one of the worst months. This whole week I've felt crappy and down on myself. Even though I know it's mostly hormonal, I still feel awful. The last two nights, I've had big crying spells. I tried walking the dog both nights, thinking if I just got out and let my head clear, all would be ok. I ended up thinking even more about everything I think is wrong with me.

The night before last, I came back from walking the dog and sat on the screened porch in the wicker rocker. I rocked back and forth like I was trying to shake out all the feelings of failure, but it wasn't getting any better. John came out and sat across from me, pulling one of my legs on his lap and stopping my furious rocking. I started crying.

I just cried for a while. John tried to comfort me and asked what's wrong. Finally, I spilled. I told him I'm afraid to share my feelings with him, because I'm vulnerable. Whenever I have feelings, he explains why I shouldn't feel that way or tries to "fix" them. It doesn't do anything to make me feel better, and I end up feeling even worse, because my feelings are being invalidated. But this time, he told me he would just listen, and that's what he did.

I started by telling him I felt like a failure. I've had an overwhelming feeling of failure the past week or so. I'm afraid I won't be ready for this race. I had a bad day at home that day and didn't do much around the house, giving me a feeling that I'd be back to the cluttered mess of before. My eating has been completely out of control, because I'm giving in to cravings, and I feel like I'm doomed to be fat. For once, he told me what I'm doing right instead of telling me I shouldn't feel that way. He said everything would be ok and that I'm not on the big downslide I thought I was. And I cried even more, because that was exactly what I needed to hear.

It also made me feel even more sad. That was what I always wanted. That's the kind of contact and communication I craved our whole relationship, and having it that little amount of time really hurt. It was like giving cake to someone who'd been starving. It was so rich and perfect that it showed me how sick I was. And I cried because I hurt so much and because I didn't feel like I could share that, because I didn't want to hurt him too.

John has the most active defense mechanism I've ever seen. If anything is the least bit accusatory or negative about him, the armor goes up. Even when I've used the "I" language, he manages to see it as an attack. I'm not even going to begin to explain how protective he is. It just doesn't make for very good communication, and it certainly doesn't create the feeling of an exchange that relationships need. So when I had that vast feeling of loneliness, I was afraid to share it and close down the channel then flowing between us.

To get anywhere at all though, I was going to have to trust him to do the right thing. I couldn't shut myself off forever. Everything was going well, so why not give this a chance too. So after I told him I didn't want to hurt him by saying what I had to say, and he told me he still wanted to know, I said I was lonely. I didn't say anything more. I couldn't, because I was crying too hard. I don't think I had to anyway. He knew. He's known all along how lonely I've felt, and it's why he feels the guilt he confessed to me just a few nights earlier. He just doesn't know what to do. I tried to let him know he was doing it right then, but I don't know that I did a very good job of it. I'll have to make sure I tell him that.

Last night was not such a good exchange. My tender feelings were hurt again, and he tried to tell me why I shouldn't feel the way I did. I admit I was overly sensitive, just like I have been all week, but that was not the way to go about making it better. I ended up hurt more and feeling invalidated. We argued for a couple hours, and it was 2:30 AM before we went back to bed, but I did feel better. We really have to stop doing that though.

I never thought my comment would turn into a big argument. He says I never do, and he's probably right. It wasn't a big deal though. It was his reaction that hurt and made it a bigger deal. So we were caught in the downhill snowball of hurt feelings, accusations and defensiveness. For once, I didn't let my feelings take over entirely, and I think we got somewhere for once. I suppose we'll see.

Today, I'm going to the bookstore to get a book the counselor assigned us to read. As usual, we put it off, just like we've put off talking about all the things she's recommended we discuss. We're going nowhere on our own, because neither of us seems to want to do the work. I said before I don't want to be the only one, and that's a lot of the problem. Maybe if I just started things off, we could really get somewhere. But I'm being stubborn and self-righteous in that respect. I'm either going to have to tell him I need him to kick things off, or I'm going to have to take initiative. I think it's better I take responsibility. After all, if it's what I want, I should go for it, right?