this record may be broken.

Last night I made a very expensive mistake while I was drinking. I blacked out. I woke up this morning on my couch and had no idea how I got there and my phone was missing. I checked my account to see if I took an Uber and maybe left my phone in it, but I didn’t find an uber charge I found a charge much LARGER than that. Through further research I was told that I broke the front door of a bar we were at and had to pay for it.

I am scared to see my husband when he gets home today, because I don’t remember my interaction with him last night at all. I know for sure that I didn’t tell him about the door that I broke. This was my second time in less than seven days coming home wasted. I deserve to treat myself better than that. It’s not a good look. It feels horrible to wake up and have no idea what happened the night before, nothing can be worth that amount of alcohol. My husband deserves better than this. I don’t want him to worry about me every time I am out.

I couldn’t even cry after learned what went down last night, because I am so disappointed. Crying isn’t going to fix anything. I’ve had the “I am sorry I won’t drink so much next time, blah blah blah,” conversation with my husband so many times before that I know it won’t be enough this time.

I am going to stop drinking.

I have said it before, but I have never felt like this before. Last night went beyond got a little too loud in a bar to destructive and expensive. I don’t like to think of myself that way.

I deserve better.

The people around me deserve me.

I am going to stop drinking.

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Redundant.

Sometimes I feel like I am banging my head into a wall. Repeatedly. I expect a different outcome as I carelessly wind up and ram into it, again. The blow is never softer. I can only hit it so many times before I pass out, bleed out, or black out. Dramatic? Perhaps. Is the drama necessary? Always.

My husband is a friendly guy. He’s the life of the party without trying. People seem to be drawn to him, whether it is to share aversion or admiration of his ridiculous humor. I find the trait to be endearing, I like that people like him, it makes me feel liked by association. However, for the entirety of our relationship I’d say he finds himself in deeper friendships with women. It makes me uncomfortable. Whether its the girl he grew up with and was in love with until he met me or the women he works with, there is a revolving door of other women he engages with regularly. Women will text him things like “missed you at work today”, “I’m bummed we don’t work together tomorrow!”, things about who they’re sleeping with in the kitchen, personal shit, etc. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I don’t want other women texting my husband that they missed him. I don’t give a shit if I am with him every second of the day and know they aren’t sleeping together, I never want to see that someone other than his mother is texting him “Missed you.”

In Chicago, he has a small group of friends that he’s made and one of them is female. Her and I over time have become friends, too. I know they don’t have anything beyond friendship going on, but he will draw stupid cartoons and leave them for her to find the next day at work and she’ll take pictures and post them on social media, or she’ll post pictures of him doing something at work. I hate checking my instagram to find pictures of things my husband is doing through another women, even if it is something as stupid and small as a dumb “this place sucks” cartoon he draws.

I’ve expressed to him that it makes me feel insecure when I see this happen, and he replies with “Im sorry, but she’s just my friend, its a stupid picture.” Which, duh, I understand that, however if it makes me uncomfortable then that’s kind of that, right? A server he worked with once told me that I was the real winner of the Super Bowl, because I got to go home to him every night, and it took 4 months and me having a total breakdown to get him to understand that I didn’t want him texting her or going out with her. She even slept with his coworkers that were in relationships and he still didn’t understand what made me uncomfortable. Another woman would text him daily her excitement about the days they’d work together, he also didn’t understand why that would make me uncomfortable. It’s stuff like that. I express to him that I am uncomfortable, he continues to exhibit the behavior that makes me uncomfortable, I continue to feel like his connections with these other women matter more to him than our connection, and then I explode. It is only after I explode like a jealous, psycho freak that he understands and backs off.

Today, the new friend posted about him three separate times. I text him to ask why she keeps finding things around work that he’s leaving for her to post on instagram and he says it’s just pictures it doesn’t matter. He thinks I’m being jealous and it’s a new thing that we’ve never experienced or talked about before. He told me he feels like I don’t trust him, which he doesn’t understand. And I told him that each time I have another conversation with him about feeling like he puts other women before me that I absolutely do not trust that he cares about my feelings.

I can’t continue to have this conversation with him. I just cannot. I have male friends but I’m not texting them, I’m not posting things they’re doing for me (not that they’re doing things for me) for him to see, I’m not talking to them about deeply personal things.

To whomever reads this, I understand if you think I am a little neurotic. Maybe I am, but I don’t want to feel like I come second any longer. I really can’t keep telling him that.

 

fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuckkkkkk.

Going Going, Back Back…

 

To Cali Cali. Original. I know. This month my husband and I are making the Haul back to California after five adventure (I loosely use the word “adventure”) filled years away from it. We originally moved to to Charleston, South Carolina and then from there to Chicago, Illinois. We wanted to take advantage of being young, in love, and without kids. I had also finished college with a degree in psychology and no official plans to use it, while he had graduated from culinary school and had every intention of putting that to good use.

His intention was to cook and learn cuisine and culture in other parts of the country to bring back home (California) with us in hopes of having expanded knowledge for one day opening our own restaurant. My plan was to find a job a that paid the bills and enjoy living in different parts of the country. It was exciting for us and for our families, because we were the first in a couple of generations to get out of our hometowns. Sounds so small-town, doesn’t it? We are not from a small-town, but a nice suburb of the East Bay Area, when we share that with people in other states they can’t comprehend why we would ever leave it. The answer is simple, it has been such a growing opportunity for us that I don’t understand why everyone doesn’t take a year or two off from where they grew up. If you’re thinking “Money, maybe?” you’re wrong. We moved across the country with barely $1000 together and we’ve made it work for 5 years without ever once asking our parents for help.

So, now that we have had this amazing cross country adventure together, we have decided that it is time to settle down sightly and move back home. I have been at the same job for almost 8 years transferring from location to location and has fulfilled his desire to learn new cuisine. The only downside about spending the past few years traveling is that we haven’t had an opportunity to lay roots anywhere or save money to build towards our future and our potential business. Not to mention my sister has a new baby girl that turned 2 months old yesterday that I have yet to meet, which is tearing away at my heart.

It is with the most bittersweet of feelings that my husband and I began packing our 375 square foot apartment this month to begin our haul back home. I’m grateful for all that I learned along the way and I can’t wait to see what moving home to be with our families again can teach us. Honestly, I CAN wait a little bit to have outside influence and added family pressure thrown into our marriage that hasn’t been there the whole time we have been married, but it’s all part of the adventure, I suppose.

 

 

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/haul/

Family Visits

For the past 5 years my husband and I have lived in states thousands of miles from our families. With the exception of my parents and one set of grandparents, my family has made no attempt to visit us. His family, aunts, uncles, cousins, siblings, etc., have come to visit us multiple times. This week we expect MY aunt and uncle to come visit for St. Patrick’s Day weekend and we couldn’t be more excited. The biggest difference between visits from his family and my family is that his family is big on planning, which is nice. My parents show up, and aside from dinner reservations, there is no planning done ahead of time, we just kind of go with the flow.

With my own parents I am less concerned about how bored they may feel or how important it is to stay busy, because they are visiting mostly to see me. With my aunt and uncle I am feeling more pressure, because while they may be visiting to see me, they are also on a vacation to a new city in a new state that they have never been to before. Chase and I have food covered, we know exactly where to take them to eat, all meals, for their extended weekend stay. They have given input to a couple things they’d like to do, but other than that have given us nothing to work with as far as planning goes. I like to believe that this can all be go with the flow, but I am so nervous that I will pick a museum that bores them, or we will go to a bar that isn’t as fun as the bar next door to the one we pick, or when we go to the St. Patrick’s day parade I will pick a viewing spot that isn’t ideal. In the back of my head, I know they are here to relax, drink, and have a good time, but I still put a lot of pressure on myself.

The pressure I put on myself in situations like this leads me to over research things to do, compile a list of things that aren’t accomplishable in the time frame allotted, and then feel disappointment in myself only when I can’t decide which place on my list is the one we should go to. This worry overflows into my everyday life, because I live on social media where I find all the places that cool all the time and can never pull the trigger and go to them. I depend on other people to make plans for me all the time, because I am so worried that the things I want to do no one will enjoy. If I go to a friend suggested bar or restaurant and it is a dud, I don’t care and I don’t harp on it, but I fully believe that if I were to pick a dud it’s all anyone will be able to think about.

I drown myself with insecurities for no reason. It’s unbearable and makes me a boring person on my own and I can’t figure out how to overcome it.  I know that I have to pull the trigger and start to make plans, and once they are successful it will encourage me to make more plans, but I just can’t do it. Wahhh. I know in the end it will turn out just fine. I just obsess over these things.

 

Any fun suggestions in the Chicago area for a wild aunt and uncle to do? They are here to drink and eat! I’ll take all suggestions into consideration 🙂

One-Eighty

In an interesting turn of events yesterday I found myself wanting to tell my husband to sleep with other people. Something that is embarrassing for me to admit is that we only find ourselves fighting about sex. He wants it all the time and I actually never want it. I understand how horrible that has to make him feel knowing that his wife never wants to initiate sex with him, but it’s not really his fault. I don’t actually know what it is.

I would say the first half of our relationship was great in that aspect, and this second half has just dropped off for me. I am attracted to him, I fantasize about it with him, but when it comes down to the act of it, it exhausts me. It feels mentally taxing to engage in intercourse now and I can’t fight my way around it.

If i had to pinpoint a cause, it would be when we moved in together. I became his mom and his girlfriend in the same day. I started to realize how messy he was and how little he did to help out around the apartment. At first, it was fine, I wasn’t working so it made sense for him to work crazy hours and for me to tend to our apartment. Once I began working again, however, the chores never split. It remained that I was the housekeeper and the cook and did the laundry and made sure we had groceries. This is a theme that, years later, hasn’t changed. I’ve told him that being his mom and being his significant other can’t work me. I can’t clean up after him all day and then want to be intimate with him at night, anyone else have this problem?? We’ll have that talk, we’ll both understand what we need in the moment, I need him to either help out more or appreciate all that I do for us and he needs me to be more sexual for him. Seems fair.

We fall into a place where he’ll cook dinner then say things like “Okay help me with the dishes since I cooked!” Or, “I made the bed this morning and did the dishes before I went to work!” Expecting a gold star. It infuriates me that he does a fraction of the things I do everyday, but he expects so much praise in return. I literally do not get a pat on the back every time I time I pick his underwear up from RIGHT NEXT to the hamper, or pick up his Q-tips that can’t quite make it into the garbage.

I know I am making us both out to look bad, but I have noticed among friends and while reading relationship articles that it is typical for the man in their lives to expect praise for doing normal tasks. He’ll do all of these things until we finally have regular sex, then get complacent again, because he got the result he wanted.  Once we get into the boring routine again it’s like he forgets what we had talked about before in regards to my needs.

This time, however, we’ve been great. We have been communicating and laughing and supporting each other, but for whatever reason with the impending pregnancy news neither of us had sex on the brain. Now that that possibility is gone, I just haven’t gotten back in the mood. We argued again about how I don’t initiate and how he doesn’t work to get me in the mood he just randomly announces that the wants it and gets discouraged when that’s not enough for me.

I think about sex. I also think about sex with him, but when it comes down to the act my thoughts and body are never on the same page. I don’t actually want him to sleep with other people, but I fear sometimes that I can never be someone who will jump on him when I feel like it. How can I increase my sex drive? How do I make my body catch up to what my brain wishes we were doing? Help.

I’m Going Through Changes

Update: I am not pregnant. I started my period on the 47th day of my cycle which is honestly bonkers. I have never had a very consistent cycle off of birth control, but it has never been THAT off before.  My last post expressed fear for the potential of bringing a life into this world, a lot has changed since then. It has been less than two weeks since I officially announced that I thought I might be pregnant and since then my opinion on being a mother has drastically changed.

The night that I had posted about it I had a long talk with my husband about how this might actually be it, we may be pregnant. I was expecting regret, sadness, and a break down from him. He is so worried about money, moving back to California and getting a second car that I had convinced myself he would freak out more than I did. The response that I got, instead, overwhelmed me with positive emotion. He was sure of himself as he held me and told me it would be alright. He smiled, he was calm, he was ready to find out and begin planning.

I bawled. I wasn’t expecting him to be so calm, at all. We had talked all the time about how we never wanted children and joked about how we could barely afford ourselves. Once he showed me how strong he was in that moment, my mentality shifted. I was ready to go buy a test the next day after work and get our results. We had read that false negatives were a thing, so after the first test was negative I waited a few days and took another, which was also negative. So I told myself I wasn’t pregnant and began to research why I would be so late and why I had been cramping for a week. To shorten a story that I could continue to tell I will just say this, a few ups and downs and another pregnancy test later I found myself officially negative. I cried.

I had pictured myself pregnant, I had planned how we’d tell our parents, I knew the timing was right for moving home and being around our family. My best friend is getting married out of state at the end of the year and the timeline would have fit perfectly postpartum to travel still. It seemed like a breath of fresh air for a moment, like it was all perfectly fitting into place even if we hadn’t planned for it. I continued you to cry for a couple of minutes, while also laughing at myself for crying, while Chase held me and let me go through it.

Picturing myself as a mother and accepting the reality of it for a brief a week, oddly has helped me grow up. I’ve been dreading moving home to be closer to family, I haven’t been able to picture us settling down and buying a home, I couldn’t figure out what it all meant to have more responsibility other than renting a studio in a busy city with no one to worry about but myself. I know that having a pregnancy scare doesn’t make me someone who has all of that figured out yet, but it opened up my heart to the possibilities of it. I feel emotional even typing this out now.

Chase later informed me that he might be a little more sad than he had let on about not being pregnant after all. He wasn’t sure what that meant and I am also not sure what it means. We were ready to be parents on accident, but I am not sure that it is responsible to do it on purpose at this point. Just knowing that we were ready has brought us closer in a way that I didn’t know we were apart, it is exciting. It seems silly to admit that about someone I chose to marry, but we were on the same page about no kids, so this has changed us a little.

I can’t wait to continue growing and changing with and learning from him. Tonight, writing out my thoughts, I feel grateful for the man that I married, I feel hopeful, and I feel so content.

 

Panic Mode

Hey guys. This is an overshare, but I am freaking the fuck out. I am on day 42 of my cycle..it has been 42 days exactly since the start of my last period. I can not be pregnant. Everything I have read tells me that 42 days is the acceptable length of an IRREGULAR cycle…but that I should probably buy a pregnancy test soon. My husband and I aren’t irresponsible when it comes to birth control, we are fully aware that we are not financially in a place to bring another life into the world, but somehow a mistake was made.

I’m not confirmed pregnant yet, but today it has hit hard that it may become a reality all to soon for us. We’ve talk about the possibility the past couple of weeks that we’ve been waiting on my period to start, but we haven’t SERIOUSLY talked about what it means if it happens. The timing is not the worst, financially the worst, but we are in the process of planning to move back to our hometown and we have been married a few years and are age appropriate to begin this journey. We are both employed, we have health insurance, we are hard workers, if it comes down to it, financially obviously it will work.

I have never wanted to be a mom, it was not something I saw for myself. We want to open a restaurant. We will never have a ton of money pursuing that passion and it doesn’t create a lot of free time at home.

I’ve been crying for an hour and just needed an outlet to vent. I haven’t talked to anyone about this, I don’t want to put the potential in the universe until I know that it’s real. Stay tuned, I believe my life is about to change.