I don't write about my husband in a negative way and I probably never will. Besides, as much as it sucks when we argue, I am never as moved by those moments as I am by the moments of sheer love and openness we have.
The perfection bitch that has shoved herself up my ass is a fickle little twat and she makes some pretty unbelievable demands of me, my relationships & my mothering. And while I can "go there" in writing with my bad mommy moments, I can not, will not, encourage that awful wretch with my marital woes.
I am proud of this. Most proud because when I write about things like I'm about to write about (Oooooo! The anticipation!) I know they won't be colored by a post just before it dissecting some shitty fight I had with my love. Suffice it to say they happen and they're likely as craptastic as the fights you have.
Anyway, here goes. I am stressed. I AM stress. My current round of alopecia is showing no signs of ever growing back, I wake up with a consistent and constant headache. I eat too much. I don't eat enough. I am getting ANOTHER fucking cold sore. I dream of crunching my teeth out of my bald head while I sit on a toilet in the middle of a shopping mall desperately trying to grunt out a shit. I dream of mutilated bodies and animals kidnapping my son. I dream of my husband leaving me with no explanation.
I am not rested. Exercising is causing my body to revolt and crumble. The probiotics, psyllium and fiber ARE NOT WORKING. I can feel the sonofabitching cortisol move all of its cousins into my gut. I have no time for extra. Extra can fuck-off.
Sex has been miserably scarce and my neck is killing me.
Well, last night we had a date. $50 Wolford stockings, fresh sheets and a locked door that turned into $19 H&M pajamas an extra blanket and a whole lot of crying.
This guy! This handsome, hardworking, loving guy! He's so smart. He's really getting it. He listened. He cried a little bit, too and then: WHOOOMP! He gave me his long-standing, every Wednesday night therapy appointment. I haven't been able to go in in a few weeks and he instantly without hesitation put me first. Not out of pity or guilt. Out of love.