So I figured out what I did wrong today. It was a busy morning full of frustrating custody-related stuff, lots of running around talking to people. It’s one of the greyest days I’ve ever seen (and I’m from Cleveland) following snow that we crashed the car in. My period surprised me early, and I was woken up at 5:30 this morning and never did get back to sleep.
That was my mistake, I should have just gotten up. I started the day by trying to hide from it rather than take it on, which put me in a frustrated, fearful mindset. I should not do that again, the Winter and the stress of life lately are starting to get to me anyway. Psychologists are saying they have shown that behavior affects mood as much as the other way around, and there are plenty of times when I’ve used just doing something different to change my outlook.
I swear I can feel my brain jangling with the panic response and I find myself looking for signs of danger everywhere. Well, when you look for something you will find it, as they say. This is why anxiety can build and build until I can’t see straight anymore.
But that’s not the case now. I’ve had amazing moments lately where I’ve finally developed a basis for comparison which, on one hand, makes these days even more frustrating but define the boundaries of my anxiety with their contrast. I begin to see the mistakes in my thinking and other choices, a different path opens up to me.
He said he wishes I’d stop cracking my knuckles. I wish I was better at explaining that it’s just not that simple. The irritating popping is only one of the most obvious manifestations of the perception that I realized today has colored my whole life, that relationships are all tenuous, nothing sacred and unquestioned. Not parents or spouses, and certainly not friends. My family has shown me this over and over and over.
So when he offered me an annulment today out of the blue I admit it upset me. He’s trying to spare me this drama I’ve walked into, but it’s too late for that. That’s not what this is. I came here because I’m literally sick of that, achey and nauseous and clammy with worry that no one is permanent.
I’m mature enough to know that permanent isn’t always easy or pretty. That the quiet boring moments are as important as the passionate or interesting ones. And so long as I can keep my oldest companion from overshadowing the interaction with my new one, everything else is just details.