Recession

Like the tide, relationships ebb and flow. Mine is currently in a low. It's not terrible as it has sometimes been, but it still leaves me feeling disjointed and unsure. I yearn deeply for reassurance, comfort, acceptance. These are the things I miss, if I ever had some of them at all.

I feel unbalanced. I wonder when I will ever be able to work on me, my future, my dreams without feeling it will sacrifice us. It's hard for me to explain. Hard to talk or even think about. I don't think I'm in that place of hopelessness that I knew for so long. It's more like a limbo... waiting. But I know that waiting will never put me where I want to be. I have to do something, but I just don't know what. I don't plan to wait any longer. I'm ready to forge ahead and see what happens. It's all I can do really, without making all those thoughts of worthlessness and wasted potential a reality.

I have made small steps. I'm establishing more routines and order, just as I said I would. It's not the gigantic shift that I think I need, but it's a move in the right direction, at least what I believe to be the right direction. Small steps are good, but I don't think it's enough. The pace is too slow to yield any results in a reasonable time, so I do need to make a big push.

It's scary for me. I've found comfort in where I am in my life, even if that comfort isn't necessarily a happy place. It's familiar. I'm as resistant to change as anyone, as much as I like to claim to be progressive and flexible. To change is to allow the unknown into my life, but at least the unknown has a potential of being happy, whereas the familiar has only proved dissatisfying. It gives both myself and the relationship a chance to become something more, something better.

The days slip away from me lately, and I don't think much, so I don't write at all. I try to busy myself and do the things I think I need to do. I'm not so good at keeping a balance when I'm trying to change. I narrow my focus to keep things simple and more manageable, not that it always works. Every time I do sit down to write, I feel guilty for indulging in something so seemingly wasteful of my time. I always think I could be doing better things, not that I always do that either. It's all part of the faulty, short-circuited wiring I have in my head. If anything, I should probably write more, address the thoughts and feelings that drive what I do. Even if I just write for me, it would be better than nothing. I usually feel guilty when I write for myself without putting anything in the online journal though too. I can't seem to do anything without feeling guilty about something else.

So really, I'm out of sorts. I don't know if it happens to me too often or if that's just normal. John went to counseling by himself this week because we didn't have anyone to baby-sit. He said the doctor wants to see me alone next week. I'm sure she wants to hear the other side of the story John presented this week. He spent much of the session talking about me, because he wouldn't speak a word to me when he got home that day-a sure sign.

I was interrupted by a thunderstorm and had to turn the computer off, so I completely lost my train of thought. There's laundry to do anyway and a house to clean. We have guests coming tonight, so I have to get things straightened up a bit. More on those guests next time.