You know, when I was with X it wasn't great... but at least when I was feeling off, when things were bothering me... whatever - I always knew where to look (inside) for the cause of those problems. Him! Antsy? Depressed? Angry? Anxious? Tense? Stressed? X. X. X. X. X. and X. Sure I felt those feelings on a pretty regular basis... but life was predictable. I'd wake up, feeling anxious, know it was because of X... get my walls up & get through the day. Ahhhh. life was so simple then...
Now, it seems, something else is happening. I'm feeling tense. I'm feeling anxious. I'm feeling stressed. And I'm not really sure why. I'd say this has been going on a good three months... with breaks here and there....but yeah. Three months.
We spent the past weekend at J's & it was great. Friday night I took the kids to B'nai Jeshurun for Friday night services... J met us... I was fine. Happy. Calm. Thinking/feeling.. isn't this nice.... Then at some point: BOOM! I got tensesotenseIcouldnotrelaxeverythingwasbotheringme. That's how I felt. Totally wound up.
Did I mention my parents came, too?
I'm not saying it's because of them, but I'll tell you - I was miserably tense all though dinner (and had two glasses of wine!)
My mom, of course, started the evening by telling me she brought the boys jackets. That I didn't pack. Because it might be cold. Tension point number one.
Both parents were dying to spend time with the kids. They hadn't really seen them since July 4th weekend. The kids would have no part of it. They were doing their own thing. Plus J's other daughter was there & the kids never see her.... so.... pretty fun girl, boring old grandparents? Right. The Grandparents were visibly upset. Tension point number 2.
Plus I always feel like my parents have super x-ray eyes. (They're parents after all. Don't all parents have those?) They're watching me. They're watching my kids. Waiting. Waiting for something to go wrong so they can tell me. Tension point number 3.
Ahhh, you're saying... you know why you were tense after all! Ok. Maybe I do. But that stuff has all happened before... not really sure why it was so bad that night.... and it was bad. I was miserable. Can't say it was any better for poor J - who had to bare (bear? I never know) the brunt of it.
We get back to J's place, I get the kids settled & go into his bathroom to get ready for bed. My stuff! It's all over the place! Some of it is missing! MY STUFF!!!!!! I ask (in my calm, not at all tense voice - yeah, right.) WHERE IS MY STUFF? J explained that the girls cleaned out the stuff in the bathroom. The put most of my stuff back, but the stuff they didn't know who it belonged to... was in this box... MY STUFF!!!!! I was like "but, but.... I had ALL OF MY STUFF in one place. It wasn't like it was all spread out. If they didn't know whose it was... if it was in my place, it was... (say it with me now) MY STUFF!" (I like my stuff, OK?)
Could have, perhaps, maybe, overreacted a wee, wee bit. But shit. Don't mess with a girl's stuff!
Had a horrible nights' sleep, was so tense before I fell asleep you could have bounced a marble off my back. Woke up in the middle of a dream - when J's alarm went off. I said: "I was in the middle of a dream" and promptly started hyperventilating and crying. Sobbing. All the feelings that were in my unconscious. In that dream. There. On the table (OK, bed. We didn't sleep on the table.) Out there. Raw. And I couldn't really even remember the dream, just kept saying/feeling "It was that I didn't belong."
Oy. I tell ya'. I'm sick of this emotional drama in my life. I understand that when you're in therapy you bring things to the surface & become a bit more exposed. I get that. But c'mon now!
So I've been really thinking about this - beyond the "I don't belong" feeling... because that would probably be a whole other post. But I've been thinking why I've been having so many more feelings (and the good ones too - but just not having as many of those recently!) and I think it's because when I was with X I was so concerned with HIS feelings. Keeping him happy. Keeping him relaxed. Keeping him calm would keep things calm for me. I didn't have time to worry about my own feelings... if he was OK he'd be OK at home. When I did have the feelings... my own feelings.. they were immediate. A reaction to what had just happened with him. And it wasn't talked about. It was tabled. Shelved. In my brain.
So, I'm thinkin'... that part of it is an overflow from what was created with him (my friend, a shrink, really feels that part of it is PTSD - the sobbing & hyperventilating) and part of it is just the luxury of having feelings. Being able to have my own... so I'm experiencing them more.
So yeah. It's been the best of summers, and the worst of summers. And now I'm just ready for it to end. (NOT the summer! NO! Love summer! Hate Moods!)
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