Monday, February 27, 2017


It helped a lot to write down what was happening with my panic attacks and with our grief process. I haven't had an attack since and I'm hoping to keep seeing and acknowledging the presence of grief in our lives right now and how it is affecting us -- and hoping that writing it down will continue to help.
Although a lot of what I need to write is technically "private" and goes against the old approach of never airing your dirty laundry, I am pressing back against that. If it helps me to be more open, maybe it helps someone else to hear it, and maybe it helps that great great grandchild reading this one day that is struggling (A brief message for that great great grandchild: Hey, you. I've probably been dead for quite some time when you read this, but imagine me patting your head. I like you. Assuming I didn't end up a total jerk face, I have both the time and ability to watch out for you. So I am. You're doing great. You're loved by this old dead lady).
Anyhow. Back to business.
The Double B and I process things very differently. Our minds works very differently. I have said it before, but we are just completely different people. This has advantages and disadvantages. I have a sister-in-law that says she and her husband are so alike that they are basically the same person. I have NO IDEA what that must be like. We grew into love with each other and were so crazy about each other that it didn't even really register that there would be times that the way we approach things would be a significant struggle for us. I know that I am as big of a mystery to him as he is to me, just like I know he is as crazy about me as I am about him.
Because we approach grief very differently, it makes it ten times harder on the other person. I can honestly say it is a burden to me, and a burden for him. Bless our hearts.
I want to express more, he wants to express less. I become more needy, he becomes more grumpy (which is really saying something).
I have a big imagination to this day. I can very easily spend hours daydreaming, because I like the world I create. This also means that I project a lot of things onto the Double B that simply aren't true and I end up needing reassurance that he does actually like me. He never, no never, needs reassurance on anything and thinks it's pretty ridiculous that I ever would, and doesn't hesitate to say so (and remains reassurance free). Which doesn't help me. And it doesn't help his need to be strong that I am unable to just be stoic and move along.
It's weird and probably unfortunate because it pulls us in opposite directions, but the same thing happened in 2009 and we got through. I am writing this down because I am hoping by being a little observant of it I can find ways to love and serve him and be more self-aware.
I know I come from a long line of adorable spazmos, and I am aware that the battles I fight in my head are caused by hereditary mental illness and that can be hard to be married to -- I also don't want to be ashamed of who I am. I want to feel safe to discover and to share that person.
The Double B is not an emotional human in any way and is kind of natively a grouch. That is who he is and he feels very comfortable there and that's okay. The struggle is I am not as able to handle it as my sister-in-law married to the other brother. I feel like he is punishing me (I know he is, sometimes) with his bad attitude and snappy comments. I think he feels punished by my stress levels sometimes, too. Some of that he can help and some of it he can't, just like me with my spassiness. Some I can help and some I can't.
All those little irritants are so amplified when your insides are all churned up. It's not my fault and it's not his fault, but we do have to get through it together. I think the reward of marriage for the people who make it to old age with an incredible bond is that they made it through the good and the bad times, the boring and irritating and wonderful times, loving each other through it all. And they end up with something truly beautiful.
I am committed to this awesome lunatic. He is committed to me, and we are committed to us. I love him so very much and most of the time I like him, too! Life is an amazing journey, and I want to remember that. And I want to savor the journey, because it goes by just as fast as they always said. 

1 comment:

Ducksoup said...

You are 300 percent awesomesauce but super sorry to hear of your struggles because grief is one of the worst feelings in the world. Hang in there. Sure love you!