You Fight Through That Shit ( I Heart Pulp Fiction, a moment of clarity)

Man oh man, did I have a roller-coaster Tower-of-Doom Sunday/Monday. The whole weekend was kinda crappy; if you read my previous post, you know it started out with Vuni and I not doing so hot. After we talked, kissed, and made up, I figured the rest of the weekend should go decent... I'd already dealt with my fair share of crap, right?


WRONG.


Not long after Mr. V and I make up, we smell something disgustingly familiar in our living room: cat piss. Immediately I begin to panic; I already know it's from EmmaBear, our 8-year-old Ragdoll. She's done this in the past; it's something that cats sometimes do when they're upset (we ruled out illness, and since we keep the THREE litter boxes immaculate, we know it's not a dirty littler box issue). For anyone who doesn't know this, cat pee not only stinks like hell, but it's a total B to try to clean the surface where the pee is and takes forever to remove the stench... and that's if you're lucky. When EmmaBear did this back at my parents' house, it took weeks before we could get the smell out of the carpet.


I cleaned the carpet as well as I could, sprinkled the area with baking soda, and crossed my finger it would be a one-time deal. This was Saturday night.


Sunday evening, we come home from being gone all day (doing laundry, oh joy), and right in the middle of the baking-soda covered carpet is a yellow patch. Furious, I grabbed EmmaBear, took her over to the pee spot, said "NO!" and began carrying her to the stairs so I could take her down to the litter boxes. I flicked on the light leading down to the basement, and what is sitting on the top stair?


A HUGE f*cking spider :(


I began screaming at the top of my lungs without even thinking; Emma clawed her way out of my grip, leaving stinging talon marks on my face, chest, and arms, and Vuni came to my rescue, slightly panicking in fear of my screams. 


So I'm shaken up from the cat pee and the spider. We decide to calm down by taking a shower. Vuni heads into the bathroom to start it, only no water comes out. He tried the sink, then the kitchen sink. No water. Vuni called his sister Krisi to see if the water was working at his parents' house. Yup, it worked fine there. Great. Is this a nightmare? I'm hot, itchy, and I just feel dirty after cleaning up pee.


We called the water company; a water mane (main?) was busted down the street, but they were sending someone out to work on it. It's like, 9:30 at night. And no water. Fantastic.


I stayed up until 2:00 AM worrying about Emma and the water, getting up to test the faucet every 30 minutes or so. Once the water came spurting out of the faucet shortly after 2, I stayed up another hour, still worrying about Emma. A cat peeing outside of her litter box may or may not be a big deal to you, but any cat lover knows just how big of a dilemma this is. Not to mention, I was feeling like a horrible mother; Emma was stressed out, that's why she was doing this.


After very little, off-and-on sleep, I rolled out of bed on Monday morning right as Vuni was leaving for work (already a bad start to my day, as I don't like getting up late). Immediately walking into the living room, I knew it smelled off. I go over to The Spot (which, we had moved a chair over it, both to keep Emma off and let the carpet/new layer of baking soda dry), and find not one, but TWO new reeking wet spots. Furious and exasperated (and desperately wanting to hit something in frustration), I called my mom (at work), absolutely hysterical. She did her best to calm me down, and suggested I stick Emma in the bathroom with one of the litter boxes. I did so, had a brief text message conversation with Vuni ("Why does life just seem to keep getting worse? I fucking hate myself right now!" <--Me "Well, I love you very much right now. We are going to be okay."), and then paused to evaluate the situation. 


In all honesty, I was feeling SO OVERWHELMED... there are no words to really describe how bad it was. I could easily compare it to the time I attempted suicide. I want to save the suicide story for another time, but basically... I was feeling so hopeless and overwhelmed, I did not know how to deal with those emotions and thoughts nor did I want to, so in a desperate attempt to not feel... I downed a bottle of pills. At the time, I didn't think I could handle life getting any worse, but I didn't see how it could get any better. I didn't want to die, but I was terrified and really couldn't imagine things would improve and that I could one day be happy again. 


Standing there evaluating, I was desperately wanting to do something to deal with the pain. I feel like I have been working so hard to turn my life around, as I've stressed in previous posts, yet things slowly only get worse. Health problems and illness. Being denied food assistance, despite relying on our parents to feed us,like, 50% of the time. Waiting to be approved for disability. Obvious money problems. Relationship issues (though, thankfully, those always seem to work out). Constant, overwhelming anxiety. Now, worrying about my beloved cat. Worrying that I'm a bad mom, worrying that if she doesn't start behaving... I might have to ask my brother to take her, at least for awhile...?  Unimagineable. I wanted to do something, anything; binge and purge, exercise until I passed out, down some vodka, smoke... even cutting crossed my mind. Cutting, which I hate admitting I ever did; it's embarrassing (even moreso since it seemed to be a trendy emo thing for a minute, and it is NOT trendy). I have only cut once since my teenage years (and that was while I was one drink shy of being blackout drunk), but I have never forgotten the disgusting "high" it gave me.


Now why do I love Pulp Fiction (which I only just happened to see)? Other than Quentin Tarantino's non-linear storyline style being reminding me of my often non-linear style of writing (which always seems to come together in the end), I feel like I can really relate to Samuel L. Jackson's character, Jules, in a way. The hardcore, badass, fearless gangster has a single "moment of clarity" that makes him want to abandon his life of crime. 

"Yeah, I was sitting here, eating my muffin and drinking my coffee, when I had what alcoholics refer to as a moment of clarity."

I don't think I've had one single moment of clarity in my life; I've had times and experiences of clarity that are leading me to become a stronger, better person.

Yesterday was one of those times. I wanted to take the easy way out; I wanted to numb myself and not have to think. That is how I've always been; I run when it comes to dealing with unpleasant thoughts and feelings. Run, or numb myself. I may never be able to escape the anxiety, but just like Jules knows he doesn't have to stay stuck in a life of crime, I know that I don't have to spend myself running and using negative methods to cope... which brings me to another Pulp Fiction quote:

The night of the fight, you may feel a slight sting. That's pride fucking with you. Fuck pride. Pride only hurts. It never helps. You fight through that shit.

Pride isn't my problem; but pride can be addictive and very negative, much like my vices. The irrational thoughts (of which pride can be an irrational thought), fuck with me. They never help me. And I have to FIGHT THROUGH THAT SHIT.

So I allowed myself to stand there and fume, cry, and irrationalize for a few minutes. I fantasized about drinking, cutting, smoking, ect. All of the things that would never help me. All of the things that would only hurt me. And then- I fought through that shit. I remembered all of the horrible things that I have experienced in the past, thanks to negative "coping" methods. I convinced myself that if I were to drink or whatever, it would only be a repeat of the past. I thought of how someone once told me they thought I must have a guardian angel; I've had a couple of close life-and-death calls (I'm truly convinced that surviving my suicide attempt was a miracle), so I thought of how lucky I am to still be here. Not only am I still here, but I have a wonderful loving boyfriend, amazing parents, two ornery but very sweet kitty cats, an outstanding brother, a roof over my head, all of the basic comforts in life, and a small network of people who truly care about me. I have a lot; a lot to fight for. 

So despite the shitty events of the weekend, and the cloud of uncertainty that has been hanging over my head, I decided that being strong and rational was the way to go. I drank a big glass of water, had a berry smoothie, got ready, and went about my day.

I was going to blog about all of this last night... but after the crazy events and lack of sleep over the past few days, I fell asleep while Vuni and I were watching Pulp Fiction; I dozed off maybe half an hour into it. Today, I understand why; I needed to watch the rest of the movie. I was born an artist, and appreciate all kinds of art, from music to painting to film. I love it when I can relate to art, hence my excitement over Pulp Fiction. Who'da thunk? This timid little ball of anxiety relating to a graphic gangsta film. Strange, but true. I honestly love how Jules has such a realization; how he saw a accidental stroke of sheer luck as a miracle, and it impacted him enough to make him want to change. I don't mean to get all philosophical/spiritual, but that makes me think of all of the little miracles that happen in life; all that have happened in my life, from meeting Vuni by random chance, to realizing I'm strong enough to deal with emotions that I, at one time, would rather harm myself than feel. 


Life may suck sometimes, and it may feel like I've been stuck in a rut for awhile without seeing any way out, but the miracles and moments of clarity... they make it worth fighting though all of that shit.

Love: It Ain't Easy (b*tching, reflecting, and pondering)

The best things in life may be "free," but they are only free in a monetary sense; the "best things" come at a much higher cost, in my opinion.


I'm specifically thinking about love/relationships.


Is this why so many marriages end in divorce? Because people rush into things without thinking about just how much effort truly needs to go into making a relationship work?


Forgive me for saying this, it truly is just my opinion, but I think people who simply believe their love is strong enough to get them through anything are full of shit- unless they're referring to the fact that love makes you a stronger, more selfless, more understanding, more-willing to compromise and sacrifice and deal with some really unpleasant emotions. I'm thinking of the people who assume that love is a faerie tale; that, because they're in so love, no problems will come their way, and if any do happen to, they can just magically get through that problem together, unscathed. 


I'm one of those people who, at one time, believed that; it sounds really sappy, and I knew from the get-go that no relationship is perfect... I also know that my boyfriend and I are both very sweet and compassionate people, who despise drama and debate. With this thought in mind, I naively assumed that we wouldn't have too difficult of a time; that, even when problems came our way, our love itself would be strong enough to pull us through it. 


The truth is, love, and a good, lasting relationship, is hard as hell. It's a lot of f*cking work. There are times it's going to be extremely painful. There are times when you'll question do I really belong with this person? Is it worth the effort? all while not being able to imagine life without them. I honestly believe this is why people fall apart. I mean, obviously, if two people don't work out, then the relationship does need to end... but when you are truly in love, and want things to work out, it's a whole different ball game. Somehow, I believe we are made to believe that love means things are easy; effortless (cough cough- Twilight Saga!). If you love each other, things will work out... yes and no.


There's so much compromise and sacrifice, so much thought and emotion, so much that needs to be understood, and taken into account. Love's not a simple thing by any means; it's complex, and my own relationship with Vuni is fool-proof evidence of that.


I'm a big-hearted, thoughtful romantic. Sweet, sentimental cards for the holidays (and sometimes just because), little surprises here and there, "I love you, my handsome!" and other adoring random text messages, babying when sick or after a hard day... just to name a few. Vuni... he's a sweetheart, but... not like that. I've finally learned to not expect much on Valentine's Day (no elaborately planned-out surprise dates, no flower and/or balloon deliveries, ect.) because he's just not into it (in fact, our first Vday together was quite painful; he did NOT enjoy my very sweet surprise to him, which I thought had been an awesome idea).


I am very high-strung (duh... anxiety); Vuni, on the other hand, is extremely mellow and go-with-the-flow. He adapts easily to change, and doesn't mind last minute, half-developed plans. As for myself? I'm neurotic about planning; a total control freak. I want to know when and where something is happening as soon as we know it's happening. I want to know all of the details as soon as possible; Vuni's okay with just knowing the date, and as the date approaches, the location. This type of thing is really important to us because of Vuni being a musician; his calendar is often filled up with gigs. Now, while the mellow/anxious polar oppositeness has caused friction, I should note that it has also been good for the relationship in some ways...


His mellow nature has taught me to loosen up somewhat; loosen up, because it's necessary. In the beginning of our relationship, I was a totally controlling bitch. If he wasn't with me, or at work or school, I wanted to know where he was, who he was with, how long he was going to be there... ect. That sounds so awful when reading it, but believe me when I say, a large part of that control-freakishness was/is due to the anxiety (though I realize that does NOT justify my behavior). I was worried about him, and a tiny part of me was worried about him cheating. I was horrible, however. Sometimes when he'd be out with friends, I'd call him and keep him on the phone for a really long time, preventing him from enjoying his time out. Now, five years in, I've learned to be so much better about things. I obviously still like to know where he's going to be and (if it's something like a gig) for how long, but I don't nag him constantly; all I ask is that, in order to keep my anxious imagination from running haywire, he check in with me to let me know he's doing okay. (When I say I worry about him, I'm serious- I worry about everything under the sun, from car wrecks to drunks to him getting drunk... all stuff I really should not be worrying about).


***Disclaimer: things are about to get very raw & honest. No sugar-coating from this usually sweet little anxiety girl!


So this brings me to why I'm writing this post; we got in another "argument," though it wasn't really an argument at all. He had a gig last night; I debated going to it, but decided against it. His ska band was playing at the fair, and yesterday was opening day. Opening day at the fair = lots of people. Lots of drinking. Lots of drunk people. Not my cup of tea on a normal day, but as it was, I was having a really hard time, depressed about our/my current situation and anxiously anticipating an important medical evaluation (which took place this morning).


They were going to play from 8-11, so I assumed he'd be home around midnight, maybe 12:30. As he was getting ready, he asked me what he should wear, because he needed to "look cool." I responded teasingly with, "it doesn't matter, you're always cool... and who do you need to impress anyways?" When he left around 6, I reminded him, as I always do when he goes out at night without me, "keep in touch with me please!" He knew I was not doing too well; sad, stressed, and anxious... that today's med eval was a HUGE deal... anyone would be anxious about it.


If the tables were turned, and he were spending the evening alone, sad, stressed, and anxious, he'd be on my mind, no matter what I was doing. I'd want to check in with him, make sure he was doing okay, ect. I wouldn't want my worrying of him to put a damper on my evening (though it probably would, but that's just because I'm me and I worry too much), but I'd want to make sure he was doing alright, all things considered. And I'd just want to hear his voice...


I guess I assumed that, despite him being so cool with his band and shit (yes! I am being a bitter bitch!), he'd still find the time to engage in a text conversation or maybe even call me (just once!) to hear my voice and make sure I was having a decent evening. In the 7+ hours he was gone, he text me twice on his own; a total of four or five all together, with his responses to my texts. (TMI- I was trying to engage him in a little bit of sexting before they started... and only got quick, seemingly bored responses... after I was such a good, loving girlfriend to him, despite being sad/anxious which initially meant I was not "in the mood", earlier in the evening before he left me all alone for the night). Forget being on the back burner; I probably wasn't even on the stove. He was too busy in his Elite Super Cool Musician Club, entertaining his adoring fans and getting his much needed attention. He text me once before they started, and once during a break, to check on me.


I was hurt and exhausted by 11:15; I figured any time after this, he'd text or call me. Eleven-thirty rolls around. Do I call/text him? No... the fair is bustling and chaotic, I'll let him contact me; he will once things settle down, even though he should've by now. It was about 11:45 when I last glanced at my phone before dozing off on the couch (I mean, come on, my appointment was at 8:30 this morning- I needed to sleep, especially since I hadn't really the night before).


I woke up very suddenly to a dead quiet house, and the first thing I realized was that Vuni was home; his gear was right in front of me (he was in the bathroom). I glance at my phone- 1:30. No calls. No texts. I felt a rush of intense pain and sadness was over me like a giant wave, pulling me under the waters of swirling thoughts:


Why is he home so late? Why didn't he contact me? Was he having so much fun that I didn't matter? That he didn't even think of me? Or is it that, when he's with The Super Elite Musicians Club, I'm too below him? Is a couple of minutes out of 7+ hours he was gone really too much to spare, and am I not worth them? Doesn't he think of me at all? Especially knowing the state I was in... Did I do something wrong? Am I physically/sexually unsatisfying? Not satisfying enough? I told him I wanted him to hold me and cuddle me when I got home... that's obviously not a motivation for him to get home soon. Was he avoiding that? Was he avoiding it because he didn't want to just cuddle, or was he worried that I was going to start whining? Were there prettier/talented/smarter/BETTER girls there, fawning over him? Am I just not worth giving a damn about?


When he came out of the bathroom, I asked him why he didn't contact me and why he was home so late. "We hung out for a bit..." was all he could say. He came over to the couch to sit by me after a few minutes, but I wasn't having it; I marched off to our guest bedroom, and laid down. After about five minutes, I heard him get up to see where I'd gone; my back was turned to the door, so I assume he saw me and either just didn't want to talk about it, or wanted to let me sleep. Ha... ha... ha... it took a long time to fall back asleep. I had really weird dreams and woke up about every 45 minutes, staying awake maybe 10-15 minutes, then falling back asleep until I got up shortly after 6:00.


Before going to my appointment, I left a text message on his phone: I hope at least a part of you realizes just how much I'm hurting, even if you're too busy "being cool" to care.


Several hours later, I got an apology text. About an hour after that, I got an apology phone call. Very bland, basic, quiet apologies. No volunteering more information on the situation. No explaining why. No, how did your appointment go? or any other concern for my well being other that asking me "how're you doing?" during the phone call. Okay, I take part of this back; he said "I feel like shit" (referring to last night's events), and I replied with, "yeah, well, so do I," to which he had nothing to say.


I was suppose to go with Vuni to the two gigs he had today; one at this cute hippie festival, the other this evening at a steakhouse. Hell, I skipped out on a chance to see one of my best friends, AJ (my "adopted brother" who I don't get to see too often), because of my full schedule. I was so hurt and angry, I haven't gone to either gigs- and instead have been moping, cleaning, and blogging. 


Vuni returned from the hippie fest gig earlier with a beautiful gift for me; when I opened the bag, part of me wanted to throw my arms around him and forget what's happened... but I've done that too often in the past. This is by far not the first time he's been inconsiderate of my anxiety and emotions in this way; in the past, he's tried to smooth things over with small gifts or treats, or by saying something sweet (like how pretty I look...), or by showing me a cute video on his phone... anything along those lines. Anything to distract from the problem. I love the beautiful clothes he brought me, and I appreciate that he realizes that I am upset... but that doesn't make up for talking about what happened. As I've said in a previous post, I want him to start taking more accountability. Am I ungrateful for not being content with "I'm sorry,"? At this point, after five years, I don't think so... I want him to talk to me about what happened, and I shouldn't have to be the one to start the conversation. 


As I type this he is at his steakhouse gig. I hope he talks to me when he gets home... I've been feeling really shitty and hurt over all of this, and as much as I appreciate his apologetic token of love, what I want most is an explanation.


So this situation is a prime example of why love is such hard work. I'm hurting and upset because I feel like I wasn't important enough or worth a few minutes of his time, and that I am just too easily forgettable; now I'm waiting for his side of the story. I know I'm too anxious, and I'm probably too damn sensitive... but I also feel like I have been a "good girlfriend," in that I was not nagging or asking for too much. I wanted him to enjoy his evening, without me there ruining it with my anxiety or distaste for all of the drunks (and I'd probably want to leave as soon as they finished playing); I didn't feel like I was asking for much in return, and I didn't even get that... so I think I deserve to know why. Also... although I've been sullen and quiet towards Vuni all day, (and maybe a little bitchy in this post), I have not exploded at him or anything.


Love really is hard work... it's a good thing that, in this case, it always seems to be worth it. Here's to hoping for tonight (*

Empty, Lost, and Uncertain... When Do I Get to Stop Worrying?

**Disclaimer- this is a depressing, whiny post. I really needed to get some of this out though, so I apologize in advice for the gloom.


I kind of feel right now like I'm just existing. Existing because I have to... because I'm here and alive.


The Twilight Saga is one of my guilty pleasures... I actually am angry with myself for liking those books, because personally, I think they're sappy and I really don't like the message they send to young women, but whatever. I kind of feel like Bella did in New Moon though... not that bad, because it's not that there's no happiness or that I'm totally depressed, but...


...things are just so strange now. Surreal. Not really in a good way; they are what they are, but they could be a hell of a lot better.


It has finally hit me that I am officially finished with school. I've graduated. Have my degree. School started this week... and I'm not there. I turn on the radio, and listen to the student radio station I use to work at (for credit, not cash ;), and hear former classmates... and it's so weird that I'm not there. It's not that I'm not happy to be finished... believe me, a lot of blood, sweat, and tears went into my degree, and I'm happy to have it, however... I've been in school since I was 4. That means I've spent the past 5/6 years of my life in school. I really don't know what it's like to not be a student. Being a student has consumed the majority of my life. If you're doing the math- yes, I graduated from high school in 2004. Yes, my 4-year plan became a 7-year plan; it was a combination of changing my major several times (and still having no idea how I ended up with a degree in Macom... trying to figure that one out for myself) and having to take a semester or two off due to health reasons. But those times, I was on a hiatus; this time, I'm actually finished. It's an extremely bittersweet sensation. Happy to be finished, sad that it's over.


I also feel lost... because I have no idea what the future has in store for me. I know what I want, and although I think about it all the time, it's almost as though I put it in a box high up on a shelf in the corner of my mind, because it is so unattainable right now. I can look at it, and it's sort of nice to think about, but I don't know how realistic I'm being. In all fairness... Vuni is right. I'm placing a lot of pressure on him; my dreams rely heavily on him. Also, however... I don't see much in store for the immediate future besides somehow generating income and saving, and the immediate future beyond that... more squeaking by, because Vuni wants to go to graduate school, and possibly get his doctorate's degree as well. This means I'm going to have to be patient for a few more years, at least. And that's if things go well. Dammit Em, you pessimist... MAKE THEM go well ;) But seriously, I don't mean to be a pessimist; I'm just very skeptical, because I thought that by the time I reached my mid-twenties... I'd be, you know, further along in life. Part of me thought I'd be successful at something; the other part was terrified, wondering how in the hell I could possibly survive in the adult world. (<--- wow, totally screwed up sentence, and I really don't care).


I'm terrified of the unknown, and I despise feeling so uncertain. All of these feelings, plus trying to suppress the other demons (the ED voice, the substance desires) are pushing me to my limit... but that's where the numbness comes in. I cannot hurt myself. I cannot just give up. Over 5 years ago, on a desperate whim to escape feelings I did not think I could cope with, I attempted suicide, and I KNOW that it is NEVER the answer. I also know that giving in to alcohol cravings, starving myself and over-exercising and binging and purging, and self-harming will not only NOT solve anything, but will just make things worse and set me back further. I have no choice but to realize that life just isn't where I want it to be right now, and yeah... it kinda sucks :( It sucks, because I am always worried. Well, okay, so duh, I deal with extreme anxiety and I am worried a lot because of it, but there have been periods of my life when it was less. It didn't seem to constantly consume me. It was worrying about far lesser things. Because if there's two things I hate worrying about, it's finances and the future. 


I feel like I'm caught in a never-ending spiral. I realize that money does not solve all problems, but lack of it sure causes a lot. Tight funds mean no money for desperately needed therapy. It means no money to be able to do things; one of my favorite things to do, ever since I was a little girl, has been shopping. A shopping spree is a fantasy; being able to afford something inexpensive is a once-in-a-blue-moon treat. "Window shopping," is fun every now and then with my mom, because I get to do a rare bit of going out-and-about, but on the flip side, it gets depressing fast because then I want stuff, and obviously can't have it. So this just makes me want to stay home, further contributing to my agoraphobia. Also, I was bitching to Vuni tonight; even when I do start getting income (whether it be finally landing a job I can handle, or being approved for disability), it's not gonna go to things I want. It's going to rent, to credit card bills (which, to most people, aren't THAT much, but seem like a shitload to me), and to at least paying my parents back some money for all that they've leant me (because I know that, medical wise, I've been pretty expensive too :( Yeesh). 


I hate to be sounding so negative right now :( I did promise, however, that I would be honest and not sugar coat things; that would defeat the purpose of this blog. It sucks admitting this stuff, but I doubt that I'm the only person going through this. Remember (if you've read other posts) how I said that I like to read pregnancy/new mom blogs? Weirdo! One that I check regularly, because I just adore the blogger (Tyler) and fell in love with her story, is called The Tiny Bubble. She wrote a post awhile back about how new moms should stop pretending that being a new mom is always peachy, or pretending that they are perfect at it, when in fact, being a new mom is extremely difficult and can make you want to run away sometimes; it's not only okay, it's normal, and moms should band together and share their feelings rather than act like it's taboo to get frustrated and such. Well, guess what? I know can't be the only person who deals with extreme anxiety, has made some dumb financial mistakes (cough cough... credit cards!), and, indeed, just some ignorant choices in general... and is now paying the consequences, which suck. Bottling all of this up is only making me feel like my head is going to explode; I'm not proud of what's going on, but I'd rather talk about it then hold it inside and let it consume me, pushing me to unhealthy coping mechanisms.


So if you deal with any type of anxiety, if you're struggling with finances, if you're worried about the future, if you're feeling empty, lost, and/or uncertain... you're not alone. We can be strong; even if it means being numb. It's taken me years to learn this lesson, but sometimes, you just have to keep trudging along, head down, straight into the wind blowing against you. That's how I see myself right now. I'm not giving up, because even though it's hard to imagine that things actually will get better, I haven't and won't stopped hoping.


I have one more thing to complain about tonight... totally pointless, but it's freaking me out and let's face it, whining and getting it off of the chest (no pun intended, given what I'm about to say) will make me feel a little better. The right portion of my most recent surgery scar has been itching horribly. I was scratching it tonight (though trying not to), but when I looked down, it was dark and bleeding. I went into the bathroom to look in the mirror for better/further inspection... it looks like a blood blister or something has formed there? Now it no longer itches, but hurts. I'm crossing my fingers this isn't something bad... and yet another thing to really be worrying about. 

Le Puffs

Okay. I have a lot on my mind. I'm stressed, and feeling kinda hopeless. I actually started a post about that last night... but ended up too sleepy (okay- so I have something new to be grateful for: I've been sleeping pretty darn well recently). Anyways, I decided I needed to do a post to cheer me up right now, and I've been meaning to introduce my readers (Hi Mamama!!) to our two little kitty girls <3 (just in case any of my readers happen to NOT be my family or friends, lol ;)


Presenting...

Emerson Ann, aka EmmaBear

Luna Artemis, aka LuHam

Yes, those are mine and Vuni's beautiful kitty girls, aka puffs. Not gonna lie, we are crazy cat people. One look inside our house is a dead give away: kitty toys, furniture, and accessories throughout the house. 

Now more about the girls:

Emerson is a purebred Ragdoll. She just turned 8 years old in July, and I will have had her for 8 years at the end of September. She was an early high school graduation present to me, from my parents. We picked her up directly from her breeder, whose sole career... heck, life... was dedicated to his Ragdoll cattery. EmmaBear has been mine since she was 10 weeks old; we've been through a lot together, and I really don't know what I would have done without her. She was my closest friend during the darkest period of my life, and I will be forever grateful to her.

Emerson seems very aware of the fact that she is a $600 cat (and that's $600 just as a pet; had we paid for her showing license, she would have been $900, and showing + breeding, $1200). She's graceful and dainty, and like many fancy cats, prissy. Even while playing, she's regal and poise. Much of her time is consumed by beauty sleep and grooming. She has an extreme sweet tooth. She loves yogurt and ice cream, apples and cake, and... marshmallows? I kid you not, that goofy cat will eat marshmallows. While not skiddish or shy, EmmaBear is cautious but generally accepting of all admirers :) Her nickname has been around since she was a couple of months old. As a kitten, she use to sit on her hind legs a lot when reaching for toys, and with her insanely beautiful body of soft, cream and brown fluff she looked like a bear to me. She's not a big snuggler, but when she's in the mood to cuddle, she sure is sweet and a total pro ;)

Luna marches to the beat of her own drum. I've never met a spunkier cat; my dad calls her "The Cog" (and also "The Moon,") because she "looks like a cat, but  acts like a dog." No joke. Luna was my Christmas present to Vuni this past year; I felt bad because when we moved in together, he really missed his parents' cat, Jade (whom I call "B," which stands for "bitch," "behemoth," and "bad-breath," for I have never met a grumpier cat). Plus, EmmaBear needed a little sister ;) Luna will be 1 year old on October 6.

Lu is extremely cuddly; the kind of cat who will hop into your lap, purring, and snuggle up to you. I have no idea where this cat got her social skills (though certainly not from her human parents), because nobody is a stranger to her. She loves everyone and is extremely vocal. I think she likes hearing the sound of her own voice, which brings me to her nickname: The Ham. Lu clearly loves herself, and loves other people giving her attention. She literally poses for photos. She's also a little pig; she loves to eat, and often begs for food, both kitty treats and ours.

We love these little puffs so much. I truly believe that kitties, and animals/pets in general, are a wonderful form of therapy. Our kitty girls bring us lots of joy. They are constant reminders of why I can't just give up. If I'm feeling really bad, scooping one of them up and holding her always makes me feel better. I talk to them and vent and cry, and they never judge me, only purr and make comforting kitty noises, reminding me that while life may suck right now, they love me and need me. What is more awesome than coming home from a long day and being greeted by two little kitties at the door? Or waking up to the sound of their jingling bells as they hop up on the bed to greet us good morning? I don't care if they aren't human, they adore us and depend on us... and in return, make us so happy with their cuteness and love! I really don't know who I would be without these two <3

"Make yourself necessary to somebody," -Ralph Waldo Emerson, EmmaBear's namesake

Ironing My Sheets, Dealing With Triggers

It's Sunday evening; Sunday, a day that often equates (at least in my mind) to family and relaxation, good food/drink and fun, maybe some errands and chores. My Sunday was made up of most of these things. I was up at 7:15, and by 8:30, I had already worked out, and was sipping on my smoothie and sorting laundry. The boy got up, we got ready for the day (dressing in comfy Sunday clothes, of course), and packed up the car to head to his parent's house. We stopped at the gas station on our way to pick up some Slim Jims for Vuni, and some coffee for myself... YUM <3 


Now... I'm sorry for this little rant, so skip ahead if you don't wanna hear this ;) but coffee snobs drive me just a little bit crazy. My brother is one such snob, so I don't feel too guilty complaining about this. It's super annoying when people act like convenience store coffee is poison and beneath them, because they can afford to drink a $5 latte catered by a barista every day. Umm, sorry, but some of us just can't afford to dish out $100+ a month on a beverage. A gourmet skinny raspberry vanilla latte is an occasional treat to me, not a daily necessity. I don't drink coffee every day anyway, so my cheap caramel apple flavored "cappuccino" from a dispenser is enough of a treat to me... and I enjoyed every last drop of it!

Caramel apple cappuccino dispensed from a machine? YES PLEASE!

We got to Vuni's parents' house, and I started on our laundry (no, sadly, Vuni and I do not have a washer and dryer- but we are blessed in that our parents let us use their facilities ;). The house was quiet, as Vuni's mom, Aren, and sister, Krisi, were at the grocery store; with the washer going, I decided to relax, drink my cheap cappuccino, and read the newspaper. All was well in the world.


I should note, before I continue, that 21-year old Krisi just moved back in with her and Vuni's parents, after living with friends for a year. Now, I do love Krisi; she is most likely going to be my sister in law one day, and I've thought of her that way for years now... but it's one of those, I love you but you're a pain in the ass type deals. She is almost the polar opposite of Vuni and I: popularity and cool factor means a lot to her, materialism is big, she loves reality TV and Top 40 music, wears $110 jeans (just an example of her materialism), goes tanning and has hair extensions, thinks clubbing and partying are the shit... that kind of thing. 


What makes it truly difficult to be around her, however, is that she constantly seems to be on "a diet." She is constantly complaining about how she is too fat and needs to lose weight. She obsesses about food, calories, and exercise. She has multiple gym memberships, a ton of exercise equipment, a ton of adorable work-out clothes (not to mention, probably 10+ pairs of Nike/Adidas/ect. work out shoes... like, I'm not even kidding), and has taken various diet pills. She is not fat; she has an athletic build, though losing just a little bit of weight would not hurt. But that's besides the point; the fact is, she has been complaining about wanting to lose weight for at least a year, but it just hasn't happened. She starts up, then slips; starts up, then slips. I hate to say this, but... one of the biggest problems is her alcohol consumption. I just wish she would realize that; it would make a big difference :( The thing is... all her talk about dieting and exercising and self-loathing is extremely triggering to me.


When Aren and Krisi returned from grocery shopping, I jumped up and began helping them unload the car. Before we even finished putting the groceries away, it began: 


"Oh yeah, you can put the avocados in that dish; we're not allowed to eat fruit on this diet, so we won't be putting any in there." 


"This dressing has too many grams of sugar in it, we can't eat it!" 


"Do you and Vuni want these soups? No pasta on this diet, so we need to get rid of them!"


They weren't even home for a full 5 minutes, and my head was ready to explode!


Em, you need to diet too. Maybe you're not fat, but you don't want to slip up, and become fat. Wait, maybe you are fat. Okay, maybe you're not fat, but if they're not eating x, you shouldn't be eating x. But what if you are fat? What if you get fat? What if fruit really does make you fat? What if they get skinnier than you? Are they trying to make you fat by giving you the foods they don't want to eat, so they can be skinnier than you? You need to tone up, you need to work out more, you need to keep it together, so you that DO NOT FAIL.


I am so embarrassed and so ashamed to admit that those thoughts were running through my head; that even now, in some ways, they still are (but I promised that I would be honest on this blog, despite feeling embarrassed/ashamed). Why am I having these thoughts? They are so, so irrational, and I know it. I'm happy that I can at least identify that these thoughts are irrational, but it frustrates the hell out of me that I have them in the first place... and that they affect me so much :(


So while Aren and Krisi began cooking a lunch they were "allowed" to have, I decided to self-soothe by escaping to the laundry room and folding/hanging up the load of Aren's clothes I'd just pulled out of the dryer. (Am I crazy that doing chores soothes me? More on that later...) So I seem like a big hypocrite, right? I am semi-rigid with my food intake/level of daily activity, despite being... thin (see even admitting that I know that I, in reality, am thin is very difficult), but it's not okay for them to do the same? Well, it makes me angry that I see myself, and very eating disordered thoughts, in what they're doing, when they not only know how badly I have struggled with body dysmorphia/disordered eating, but Aren's sister at one time struggled with a severe eating disorder. I could see if they were taking an honest healthy approach (Weight Watchers, or just being conscience and active like my parents), but they aren't approaching it in a healthy way. Eliminating entire food groups, using negativity to "keep each other in line," obsessing... I mean, it's dejavu! It's like watching my irrational eating disordered thoughts played out in front of me! And it's extremely triggering... hence my crazy explosion of irrational thinking.


When lunch was ready, I was faced with a dilemma; do I prove that I am the "disciplined" skinny girl and not eat, or do I prove that I can be rational and eat anyways? Overall, I chose to be rational; fear and a little bit of anger kept me from eating the chili they were having, but I did have a good, decent sized salad dressed up with blue cheese and almonds, aka healthy proteins & fats (not just veggies!). I also had a big glass of pom-blueberry juice... and a small glass of milk.


After lunch, however, I was feeling a little guilty, not to mention grumpy due to pain/discomfort from the ear infection that I've had for too freaking long now... so what did I do to deal with this? I became my mother.


Yes, ladies and gentlemen, a girl who at one time thought the iron was a pointless device ironed her bed sheets. I've contemplated ironing my sheets for some time now; I make our bed every day, and I've just thought it would look prettier if they laid flat, not in a crinkly mess. However, ironing sheets is something my mother does. You know, when your mom is nagging you to do your chores, you're thinking she's crazy because she irons her sheets? Well, now that I'm in my own house, I've become tidy and nit-picky, just like my mom! The myth is true, in my case. It's a good thing I have such an awesome mom, otherwise I'd be more worried about myself than I already am ;)


Ironing and anticipating how pretty our bed would look quieted the irr-thoughts. I finished our laundry. Vuni wanted to stick around for dinner; it wasn't going to be ready for awhile, so he and I decided to go to the store and pick up a few groceries ourselves, while Aren also asked us to pick up a few things she forgot. Despite the doubts stirred up when Aren told me that she and Krisi cannot eat fruit, I went ahead and grabbed my blueberries and bananas for my smoothies. (SCORE!- my love for smoothies just won't let those stupid irr-thoughts derail me! Seriously, I can't imagine not having my smoothie in the morning...).


By the time we got back, the anticipation of dinner was getting to me. Since we still had a bit until it was time to eat, I went downstairs, and used Krisi's kettle bells to do some mild weight training... just to ease my mind. This then turned into some yoga, specifically planking. Ah, the burn in my arms took away from the ear discomfort... Err, yeah, I think I'm calling my doctor tomorrow :( Follow up wasn't suppose to be for another week, but things aren't getting better... and I'm sick of it!


I ended up eating a great dinner; more salad (with blue cheese again!), hearts of palm, baked potato, and grilled bell peppers and onions- YUM. I felt GOOD about it after; and I STILL feel good about it. It was a damn awesome dinner.


I'm anticipating a bumpy road ahead, and even as I sit here, I'm wrestling with uncertain thoughts (though now, I'm worrying about how selfish and self-absorbed I sound, making such a big deal of this... does it ever stop?). However, I'm proud of how I dealt with such immense triggers today. Instead of letting the thoughts consume me, and resorting to starving or purging, I did my best to rationalize... I acknowledge that I was having irrational thoughts, but I distracted myself in healthy(ier) ways. I'd call that success. And hell yeah, our bed looks awesome ;)

P.S. Despite my frustrated complaints, I truly do love my (most likely) future mama and sis-in-laws. If they didn't occasionally make you question your sanity, could you seriously consider them family? I think not ;)

Weekend Escape, Lil Anxiety Girl Edition

Oookay, I'm finally getting to the post on our mini vaycay/weekend getaway. It was a little road trip; Vuni's ska band had several pretty far out-of-town shows, a tiny tour, if you will ;) 


I should start by explaining that I have a very strange relationship with car travel. Prior to getting my drivers license almost 9 years ago now (wow... has it really been THAT long?), I had no issue with riding in a car. I spent the first 8 years of my life in California, so I was use to traffic and road chaos. I became a little more sensitive after I started driving, but things took a definite turn for the worse two years later. I was in a horrible car accident (some elderly dumbass ran a stop sign), and have not been the same since. I must be a bad luck charm, because I have been in 3 other accidents since (not the driver for any of those). Each time, my anxiety when traveling by car has gotten worse and worse. It is not the actual driving that scares me; it's the other drivers. I love driving and being a passenger when no one else is around... but when traffic is hectic, and people and riding on each other's asses and being uncourteous... I get as scared as shit. I've had multiple panic attacks, and often end up extremely car sick.


I knew we were going to be on the road a lot this past weekend; we had a 12 hour round-trip over the course of 3 days, 6 of those hours being on the first day. Add the fact that we brought another passenger (Vuni's bestie, Lee) and a ton of gear... AND the majority of the drive was thru the mountains. I was excited about the mountain views... but nervous as heck about the actual drive. Needless to say, Vuni bought me some motion-sickness meds before we left.


The good weekend actually started early in the morning: breakfast at Village Inn with my darling friend AJ. He's a MaCom nerd like myself. Six years my junior, I absolutely adore this guy like a little brother. Seriously, I want to adopt him. It was great getting to catch up and chat; I feel like he is one of the rare people who "gets" me ;)


After that, Vuni and I said goodbye to our kitty girls, packed up the car, and headed over to my parents'. They hooked us up with a cooler for our foods and the Garmin to help us navigate; I gave them the keys to our house so they could  babysit their grandkitties ;) We picked up Lee, and headed on our way.


Right before we entered the mountains, I popped some of those motion sickness pills. I love, love driving through mountains and the stunning views... but it can also be pretty scary. So, I take precautions. To my immense shock, after about half an hour, I could NOT stay awake. I dozed off, and when I woke up, we were on the summit of some mountain, stopping at a restaurant/store to stretch our legs and use the toilets ;) When we got back into the car, I zonked out again immediately! When I finally woke up, we only had about an hour and a half of our trip left... kinda sad I missed out on the scenery, but happy that my cat nap passed a good chunk of time and saved me some serious anxiety.


After a slight mishap with the GPS (note to self- ask Vuni for destination address before we are within a 3- mile radius of destination, GPS needs time to adjust) we arrived at our splendid hotel right as the sun began to set. Thanks to Vuni's parents! However... we also happened to discover that they were in the room right next to us... and there was a connecting door. Err... hmm, no Vuni and Em Party in the Hotel Room ;)


While Vuni and Lee headed off to the venue to take of band necessities, I stayed at the hotel, showered, and prettied myself up for the evening.

View from our room, taken the following morning. Rain was a pleasant surprise!

Vuni came back a little while later, and he and I headed out, walking to the venue which was only about 5 or 6 blocks from our hotel. We met up with Lee, and decided it was time to get a bite to eat. I was looking forward to veggies and maybe soup at the sushi place that was right across from the venue... but it had a line out the door, and we only had an hour :(

This is where things start to get tricky for me. Vuni and Lee decided they wanted to eat at this brewery. I do not like brewers; for several reasons:

1. they remind me of The Ex
2. most are not vegetarian friendly, and have a highly meat-concentrated menu
3. the beer

In all honesty, I don't exactly like going out to eat (can you say weirdo?). I'm skeptical. I've had several bad experiences with meat in my food, and in general... I don't like the idea of other people handling my food. I almost always just order a salad wherever I go, because I like that it's uncooked, fresh, and I can see everything. 

Also, Mike and Lee decided to order a pitcher of beer. I wasn't expecting them to not drink, just because of me, but it was still difficult; I use to love unique brewery beers, and the anticipation of facing a bar at the venue? It made me unsettled. But I've learned that, despite my discomfort, I cannot be selfish. I cannot rain on others' parades, just because alcohol and I have a bad relationship. It's my problem, nobody else's; so that is what I kept telling myself.

However, I was a little annoyed and slightly hurt when, shortly after, we got to the venue and Vuni cashed in his two band drink tickets, getting another beer and a coke and rum. It just bums me out a little bit that he, like myself, "needs" the alcohol to loosen him up and "give a better stage presence." Despite being a musician, Vuni's pretty shy and quiet, and actually gets a decent amount of stage fright. I can understand why he drinks before shows, but I don't like it.

Ugh! But then... everyone was drinking. I'm not positive, but I'm assuming even Vuni's parents had rum in their Cokes. The only people who weren't, obviously, were those under age... but as the majority of the crowd was of age... it seemed like the whole audience had a drink in their hand.  For the first couple of songs, I sat a distance back, with Vuni's parents. I was sad, and anxious; but then it dawned on me- I needed my love bubble. So I picked up bag, and iPod in hand, I headed down to the floor, and positioned myself at the edge of the stage, right in front of Vuni. 

He noticed me there, almost immediately, and flashed me his adorable smile. I felt the butterflies erupt in my stomach. A rush of adrenaline. Giddy like a school girl. I feel faint. It stirred memories of the first time I ever set eyes on him, the first time he flashed me that smile. The love bubble surrounded me in full force. I was going to be okay. 

My angel... my shining star.

As the energetic crowd danced wildly around me, I continued to watch and to listen to my boy; I was absorbed in him. Yes, people, he is smiling at me. I thought smugly. Heck yeah, I am that hella awesome bass player's girlfriend. Now, I did not want alcohol. I was drunk on the insanely awesome music coming out of his bass amp; I was high on those smiles. Seeing the drunks around me, I thought, Ha! You may be drinking, but I have something so much better. I didn't need to drink; all I needed was in that gorgeous bass player smiling down at me.

As soon as they finished, I seized my opportunity (somebody broke a glass, and the guy guarding the door to backstage went to help clean it up) and rushed backstage. I had to have him in my arms, ASAP. Being squeezed into a bear hug and covered in his kisses made sobriety so worth it :)

The rest of that night consisted of walking back to the hotel, bringing the car back and loading up gear, chatting with Vuni's parents for a bit, and finally arriving at our hotel for the night, where we cuddled and watched TV before passing out. The next morning, we headed downstairs to a magnificent breakfast buffet. I was a little nervous about breaking my daily routine of a breakfast smoothie for the 2nd day in a row, but I pushed those feelings aside (I was STARVING) and made myself a wonderful parfait out of some yogurt and fresh fruit. Vuni, aka Black Hole Stomach, had a bagel with cream cheese and a plate loaded with sausage and fried potatoes. Vuni found Rambo on TV; while he lounged around for a bit, I went down to the fitness room and hopped on the elliptical for a bit (where I also watched Rambo). Then, we got ready, and headed to Lee's hotel to scoop him up and head off to the next city.

Into the gloom :)

I absolutely love rain, but I was not prepared for a rainy weekend; since it's been so dang hot recently (my very LEAST favorite type of weather), I was expecting dry, hot, and sunny. It rained for the majority of our nearly 4 hour drive. Even worse, we were driving on a major pass through the mountains; it was quite terrifying. We were going the speed limit (in the rain!) and yet huge semi trucks flew past us. Talk about a suicide mission...

shortly before we stopped for lunch

We stopped at a Wendy's in a small mountain town for lunch. Who's had their Apple Pecan salad? OMG... heaven. Apples, cranberries, blue cheese, pecans & spring mix = Em's heaven. 

We were thrown off course a bit when Vuni decided to be stubborn and not listen to the Garmin ;) More than twenty miles before the exit that it was telling us to take, we saw a sign telling us it was the exit to our destination. Vuni wasn't trusting the GPS, so he asked Lee to look up directions on his iPhone. After a minute, Lee said, "Dude, I think you needed to take that exit..." So we found an exit, whipped around, and took the exit... though I was puzzled, but did not want to turn the GPS back on, since it was low on battery life. The road we took was clearly a treacherous one; I wouldn't be surprised if part of it is closed in the winter. It was a winding, two-lane pass. The only thing I could do was hang on and trust Vuni's driving, because I was damn scared. When we finally got to our destination, I realized our mistake: had we listened to the GPS, we probably would have been there in half an hour. Instead, it had taken us over an hour. But, we arrived safely, and can't say that it wasn't an adventure ;)

Our hotel was a little old and rundown, but cozy (it smelled really good too, like apples and cinnamon). Oh, and check out the view looking out our room window:

We honestly did not expect it to be so cold! I loved the weather, but again... I had brought clothes for the heat, not 52 degrees.

Vuni and I went to this quaint little Italian restaurant for dinner that night. I'm beating myself up for not taking pictures; it was super cute, decorated like a little garden. After dinner, Vuni bought my freezing self a cup of hot chocolate, before I dropped him off at the saloon (yeah, seriously). I decided to just stay at the hotel for the show; I was freezing, not up for dealing with a saloon environment, not wanting to endure another night of drunks, and desperately wanting to finish reading a book I was absorbed in. Shortly after midnight, Vuni text me to say they were done, so with the hotel being less than a mile away, I was there with a warmed car in no time. Once back at the hotel, we cuddled until we fell asleep. 

The next morning, I got up, showered, and went downstairs for some coffee. I couldn't resist taking a picture:

Once Vuni was up, we packed our stuff and checked out, off in search for some breakfast and more coffee. It was still pretty early (about 9:30) when we left, and as we made our way to the car, I stopped in my tracks at the breathtaking views:

Are these views not stunning? The pictures don't do the real thing justice, but at least I have them to supplement my memory :) 

We found a neat coffee shop that was an obvious hang-out for wannabe hippies. You know, the wealthy people who wear there Tevas and Keens, tie dyed shirts under a NorthFace windbreaker and loose pants or skirts, long hair, cloth stoner bags, and drive shiny new Subarus covered in "save the earth" and "coexist" bumper stickers? Hehe, yup, them ;) 

We found out that Lee had gone home with some of the other band members after the show (yeah, after midnight, with a 3 hour drive) so we headed out. I was in charge of navigation this time, and I did darn well. Although I never minded Lee's company, it was pleasant being just with Vuni. He really is the bestest friend I ever could have asked for. (Why does just "best" not sound right there?)

We arrived home safe in the early afternoon. Well, we were safe. We found the littler of our two kitty girls trapped in a drawer... how she squeezed her pudgy little kitty butt in there is a mystery to us. Other than that, all was well; we had a lovely little getaway, but were happy to be back in our cozy home.

Communication: So Easy Said, So Difficult Done

So, I just graduated with a degree in Mass Communications. My emphasis area was electronic/new media. I know a lot about it; but it doesn't take a degree in MaCom to know that the world is rapidly becoming more and more connected through technology and social media.


When I was hanging out with my mom's 2nd grade class the other day, I showed them a video of my parents' little dog, Penny, thru my iPod by sticking it under my mom's document camera (thank you, technology). The kids squealed with excitement, and several exclaimed, "Em, you need to put that video on YouTube!!" What??? These are 2nd graders, people! Seven and 8 year olds! I don't know why this mildly surprised me; I know tweens who have nicer phones than I do. It's easier than ever to connect with people from all over the world, to express yourself, to share your talents and become a star, all thanks to technology and social media.


That being said... I almost feel like true communication has gone downhill. Emails and Facebook messages take the place of snail mail, blogs take the place of journals and scrapbooks, and iChat and Twitter take the place of face-to-face conversations. 


I'm not trying to completely blame social media, or even say that it's a bad thing... I just don't think it should take the place of honest, open, real conversations.


Because it was a lack of communication that caused the fight Vuni and I got in. While I don't attribute our fight directly to too much social media and such, I have noticed that a lot gets lost in translation because we send each other texts or emails, that come across in much different tones than what we sent them in. 


Anyways, I'll get on to the main point: we did kiss and make up, but it wasn't easy.


I will spare the gory details of our conversation, but give you the gist of what happened. It started by me saying, "So... are you going to talk to me? Because I am the one who always does all of the talking. It's your turn." To my surprise, he said, "I know... I read your blog." What? Shock! I feel bad for not having faith in him, but he had never said anything about it; I assumed that after I first told him about my blog, maybe he'd check it out quickly to humor me, not actually read anything. Anyways, at first, it was, as I expected, like pulling teeth. I'd talked about how hard it is for Vuni to communicate when it comes to very serious issues and emotions in my previous post, so I was not expecting it to be easy.


But what I learned, more than anything, is just how crucial communication is, in any relationship. I've always felt like he and I have had relatively good communication skills; we rarely argue, and when we do, we're the "never go to bed angry" people (well... usually). I am very blessed in the fact that Vuni has even been eager to attend therapy secessions in the past, something I know that is very difficult for many men. I wasn't anticipating that, the deeper you get into a relationship, just how much harder you need to work and how much more effort needs to be put into honest communication. I was somewhat naive, but I assumed that because we've been together so long, love would work things out for us... when the reality is, you have to work to make love work.


My therapist has told us that relationships are like a Venn Diagram

The relationship is compromised of two unique individuals, who come together as a couple (the middle part). Hence, two people with dreams, goals, ideas, morals, ect. Sometimes they share these things, sometimes they don't; the couples that work are the ones who know how to communicate, and are able to work through their differences (which can mean a lot of different things).


The problem is, I haven't been getting the whole picture of Vuni. I do not completely blame him; I understand that he was not raised to express his feelings or have deep discussions, but rather to look the other way. So I realize that the communication factor is difficult for him; but I honestly believe that, during our conversation last night, he realized, like myself, just how important that honesty is.


Because I don't know what he's thinking; I don't know, so I assume. And I was assuming a lot of things wrong. Not only that, but he was able to explain things to me, such as why he is hesitant to get married. Had I known his reason, I wouldn't have felt so hurt or worried that I was "not enough."


After last night, I am aware of so much more. I'm not unappreciated; I am loved immensely by an absolutely wonderful man. We just have things we need to work through, things we need to do, before we can keep moving forward together in life. I feel confident now, though, that as long as we're doing what we need to, and as long as we stay honest with each other, love will find a way.

LoveLoveLove