Take no more. She practices her speech as he opens the door.

*I use “her” and “she” because I’m a girl.

How many of you feel like your partner doesn’t understand you?  How often do you and your partner argue because your partner tells you that you’re overreacting or that you need to “chill?”  How many of you feel hurt much of the time?  Worry that you’re paranoid?  Analyze every situation for fear of being caught off-guard by something unpleasant?

When a person has anxiety and her brain never stops thinking, she can never decide if the hurt she feels is warranted.  If she has been actually wronged or if it’s just her anxiety catastrophizing the situation.  She wants to be able to “just chill,” but for some reason she was specially picked by genetics or some higher power to have a brain that is in constant go mode.  Her brain MUST consider every option before making a decision for fear of missing something.  And even on that rare occasion that she can make a decision, she will still worry that she missed something and not be able to stop perseverating (I love that word) over “what if…”

I wonder if women that stay in abusive relationships have pre-existing anxiety or depressive disorders.  If one of the reasons they don’t leave is the consuming fear that they’re overreacting and will regret the decision because they’ve been told over and over that they make no sense, that they’re irrational.  I often find myself in situations (in various aspects of my life) that I think I should leave, but I don’t because I’m waiting for that one clear sign that is objectively, definitively wrong.  That no one could deny is wrong.  I rarely find anything objectively and definitively wrong.  Do we with anxiety put up with more assholish behavior because we worry that we’re overreacting?  Do some of the people in our lives know we’ll put up with it and act more like assholes because of it?  Do they know they’re hurting us?  Do they mean to hurt us?  I hope not.

I have no great wisdom. I have no answers.  So right now I do nothing, make no decisions, feel weak and worthless.  I re-post other, more inspiring blogs and listen to a lot of late 90’s/early 2000’s angsty female rock.

Hey Your Glass Is Empty; It’s a Hell of a Long Way Home

So I worry about a lot of stuff, but most of my worries fall into four categories with one major theme: 1) My relationship with my husband (and most people) (because I’m not good enough to keep him happy/satisfied), 2) Money (because I’m not good enough to make enough or save enough money), 3) My weight (because I’m not good enough to maintain a healthy weight), 4) The set up and cleanliness of my house (because I’m not good enough to keep my house clean enough and well decorated enough to have people over).  Notice the theme?

I’m not good enough.  Or better stated I’m only good enough for now, temporarily, until something better comes along.  I’m tolerable for the short term.  I’ll do for now.  I truly believe that anyone that has any relationship with me is only doing so because they’ve settled and are just waiting until they don’t have to put up with me anymore.  I don’t believe I am the love of my husband’s life.  I don’t believe that my friends hang out with me unless they have nothing better to do.  This consumes my thoughts everyday.

I’ve attempted meditation and counseling, but I mostly find myself worrying that I’m not good enough at meditation.  As a counselor I feel like a hypocrite when I tell my clients that there is no right or wrong while meditating, the purpose is to just notice what you’re experiencing, when I constantly judge myself while meditating.

I guess one of my goals for this blog is to work through these worries by putting them into a visual, tangible format.  When something is tangible, it’s more controllable.  It’s easier to cope with something physical than something mental.  Then I worry that by wanting to control my worry, I’m not being mindful and accepting.

So that’s where I am.  Taking yoga, making spreadsheets and lists to organize my life, constantly complimenting my husband to an annoying extent, repeating “So Ham” (I am that) multiple times each day, and lost in indecision whether or not to say what I’m thinking or participate in a conversation.