Wednesday, November 09, 2005


great run yesterday afternoon – at least two and a quarter miles, endorphins kicking in around the two-mile mark, sense of being lifted by an unseen force, cramps dissolving, light on my feet, actually speeding up, could have run that whole friggin lake again, had time allowed.

things kinda went south after that. needed some help making dinner, for some reason didn’t ask for it, didn’t want to interrupt the boys’ talk and damn it they both just should have known better, why the hell can’t they offer to help and maybe help save my pride a little bit? i guess smoking those stogies and getting in a few more minutes of conversation takes precedence. i get so fucking sick of having to manage things.

flashback to the debacle with s & j. moved out of the house i’m in now, thought i was in love with s, lived with s for a while, who was already in love with j and didn’t know how to tell me. poor s. (that’s a wee bit of sarcasm there, in case there’s a question.) maybe five six months of hell, wondering why i felt so much like an outsider, needed to belong but knowing on some level that i didn’t. feeling the resentment of two people coming at me all the time, they told me i was imagining things, they drove me freaking nuts – quite literally – and i forgot what it was like to trust my intuition.

vivid echoes of those feelings now, a stranger in my own house, left out, left behind, shut out by my status as a wife, my short-time with my husband, compared to their decades-old relationship. so fragile our union, so fragile my sense of safety, so fragile my pride, so hard to ask for help, to admit to fear, admit to longing. house was our time together, doesn’t he see that? we’ve built in time for him and for me to be alone and solitary but no time together, no quiet time where it’s just us. confessed this to brian last night in bed, in tears, throat choking with the desperate fear of losing what we fought so hard for.

i need just us sometimes. i need to hear nothing but the sound of our own voices and the TV on low as duckie and i play with lotion and get ready for bed. i can’t have it – that peace is gone, and i have to make a new peace with the current situation, no matter how fiercely i resent my father-in-law stealing my hard-won time with my husband.

i don’t have the slightest clue where to go from here. the first stop is a trip to the bathroom, to avoid blubbering in the fishbowl.

anyone has any good zen advice for moving past this, chime in. at this point i can use all the help i can get.


Kiki said...

one thing you could do is schedule that together time just like you scheduled the solitary time. i think it probably doesn't need to be a huge block (and you probably don't have a huge block anyway) -- it could be something as simple as fifteen minutes every evening, or a couple hours once a week. but you both need & deserve it, and i am sure that Skipper will understand. (and if he doesn't, do it anyway -- it *is* your house.)

the other thing -- this is going to sound funny, but i'm serious: look down at your hands. chances are that one or both fists are clenched, right? do a little physical check every now & then, and when you see that kind of sign of tension, consciously relax and try to let it go. this can really become a habit, i think, and it helps a lot. deep breaths, you know? hang in there, girl.

Antonio Hicks said...

I was just browsing various blogs as I was doing a search on the word poster, and I just wanted to say that I really like what you've done with your blog, even though it wasn't particularly related to what I searched for. I appreciate your postings, and your blog is a good example of how a blog should be done. I've only just recently started a Posters website - feel free to visit it when you get a chance if you wish. Much success, antonio.

SB Gypsy said...

Hey Andi,

Even though we live alone, my husband and I try to get in snuggling time every night - even if it's only during every commercial break. There's nothing like holding each other to make you feel safe, appreciated, and loved.