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That's Not Important, now.

oh, moment is over.

Wow, I haven’t written a damned thing in a month. I meant to, I really did, I just also go busy as one does. I thought about it, a lot. I was going to write about all sorts of mundane things, of anger and of fear.
The last time I wrote I was in another bad place, my monthly bad place it seems. I finally broke down and went to the dr about seeing a therapist on the regular. I did it, I did it! But I only did it that day. There, with my PCM, I got a list to talk to drs in the area and I had to chose one. That’s fucking hard, for me at least, to make such a choice. What if I pick someone I hate? What if the person is terrible and makes me feel worse about myself? It’s not like all the drs. that my mother has spoken to in her life helped her. I don’t know… that’s why the list sat for a month without me so much as looking at a name on it. Tonight I did pull it out, however, and see if I could find any information about people online. I didn’t, but I did decide on a dr that I will call tomorrow about taking on new patients.
I’m afraid though, to talk to someone. I always wanted to talk to someone, to have someone who would listen to me and hear what I had to say and not hold my shitty husband’s shit against us in the future when I’m no long mad at him. But, no, I’m afraid of talking to someone. I’m afraid of what’s lurking my mind, of what sort of trauma I’ve blocked out… because at this point I think I might be. There’s a lot about my childhood that I’m not sure I’m ready to deal with yet. I also worry that there isn’t anything there, that my childhood was bad but not as bad as I make it out to be and that a dr will uncover that and I’ll feel like a fraud. Also, being a fraud I’m afraid of being found out. I don’t fucking know with me.

So there’s all that, not anything new. I’m full of anxiety on the regular and I feel guilty for not being more active and paying more attention to the world but when I do pay attention it makes me want to die. It all feels so awful and so terrible that it doesn’t see worth it to even be here. I’m not a valuable or worthwhile person, what am I contributing?

Tonight I finally pulled out my list of drs because I was angry at him again. He didn’t go to work but I still had a ton of work to do so I was busy all day, with my “work” and he played video games all day. Fucking 8 something rolls around, I’m off the computer but feeling so tired I can’t even keep my eyes open. I took a short nap on the couch and woke up at 9 something feeling worse. No movement from him, no suggestion that he even thought of making dinner. Not even a fucking hint. Nope, that’s not his job so he doesn’t even pay attention to it. That’s my job. That’s my thing… or that’s how I feel when he does that.
I’ve been trying very hard to be affectionate with him the last week and when he does this it makes me want to pull away and I don’t think he even notices it. I don’t know how to tell him and I don’t know how to make him see how much it hurts me.

I don’t know. I feel so passive aggressive even thinking about how to respond to him. It makes me feel selfish and greedy, to even consider asking him to make dinner once and a while. I have a good life and that’s because of him, so I should fucking enjoy and appreciate it and not make waves. So what if I have to make dinner? I don’t do fucking anything else. I hate saying that, because I want to feel like a valuable person but I don’t feel like I am. I didn’t even make anything big but I did more than he was willing to do.
Now my  hurt has turned into anger. I’m mad at him. No wonder the last time we had sex was while we were in Utah. I don’t even want to talk to him when he makes me feel this way.
The problem is just me. It’s always me. I think I need to try harder or something. I don’t know what I can do though.


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