A return

I've decided to attempt to blog again, perhaps even daily. I don't share this blog with just anyone, and it's been a couple of years - but I am making an serious attempt to turn over a new leaf and improve myself. 

What a laugh, me trying to write my way to self-actualization. 

This is a pattern. 

I started using TalkSpace yesterday, in a last desperate attempt to quell my issues with stress, anger, and communication. I'm still in love. I still have my person. But I'm all of the things I've been writing for years, and each conversation that escalates to argument leaves me with the same reprimand: "I've been saying these things to you for years." 

I'm afraid of myself these days, because in all reality, my life is good. But I'm stuck in my head and I know I can and will do more damage to those closest to me. From my mouth, my words, my sighs, my screams. I know I've written about job changes and education and the general gist of my life here, but I'm actually in a really good place financially and career-wise. I returned to school for my dream job, something I knew I wanted to do since I was about thirteen. I am a nurse. I spend my days actively listening, providing an outlet in a lot of situations to people who have it much worse, at least physically, than myself. People are angry when they are not in control and are in pain. All of the customer service experience I've gained throughout my life has prepared me for the terrible things people say when they are scared and hurting. I'm running around all day and night, solving problems, and it's sometimes a quite thankless job. But I couldn't ask for anything better, I finally feel some sense of belonging and strive to provide for people all that I can. I bite my tongue when people are taking their anger out on me. I have a lot of good feedback from management and patients. I am gentle and I am a provider and advocate. I know I'm very good at my job. 

So why do I then go home and throw all of it out the window? This is what I'm trying to explore myself and with my new therapist. How can I spend all of this energy listening and thinking carefully before I speak for a paycheque, but not for someone who has my heart and built a nest with me? 

Do I take the "learn how to manage stress" road? Is it just about burnout? 

Or do I not love him? 

What's wrong with me? 

I'm terrified it's either all me, I'm broken beyond repair, I don't even hear myself being unkind and I can't understand it. The alternative is that he is broken, too. Or that I'm actually okay, and maybe someone else is being unkind to me. It's a mess in my head when I try to wade back through the muddy waters of our conversations. I feel like the words that leave my mouth are reasonable questions or comments, but I'm met with hurt and frustration. 

If I can't even understand what I'm doing wrong in the first place, I must be a lost case. 

I spend my mornings sitting outside, and I'll chain smoke, and I'll close my eyes and picture him. How good he is, and how I will be good to him when I see him next. I'll meditate, or something resembling meditation because I have no idea what I'm doing, and I'll feel a warmness in my belly and imagine him smiling, and us laughing together, and how the night will end positively and I will turn over from our nest and put a fat number "1" on a board that reads "it has been __ days since we had a screaming match and made each other cry." 

God, I hope my therapist can help me.