I’ve decided to go with my gut and not force myself to post a blog entry every day. I think every other day is fine unless I have something I specifically need to get off my chest and express.
I feel really cheerful today. It’s so beautiful out and Spring is in the air. I have always described myself as a Pluviophile.
I think it stems from a time when I was entrenched in my drug addictions and depression. I went through a period of agrophobia several years ago; one time not leaving the house for 3 weeks. I was newly single so didn’t have a spouse to answer to. I felt relief when the weather meant it was perfectly reasonable to stay indoors. I would get my son to pop to the shop for me if it was urgent otherwise I relied on my Auntie to do most of my groceries. The weather being terrible gave me permission to not feel guilty about being holed up behind closed doors. I would also love it when the days got shorter and it was dark at 4pm. It felt cosy and safe. This was around the time my brother was gravely ill in hospital. I lived in the very small town where we both grew up and every time I went out I would get asked about him. My fear of crying in public spiked and I began to have panic attacks at the thought of being accosted in the supermarket. People were just being concerned neighbours but it was so upsetting. On top of all those feelings I was heavily abusing speed so my paranoia was through the roof.
Even when this stage in my life passed, I carried on believing myself to be someone who preferred Winter, the rain and being indoors.
Getting sober taught me that I actually love Spring and Summer. I get really frustrated now when it’s wet outside. It makes me feel trapped. It’s funny how my feelings have done a complete U-turn on that. I love nothing more than taking this little lady out in the fresh air.
Rob and I have come to kind of truce after what happened last week. Things were pretty dire at home up until my birthday and I think both of felt that things could not continue that way. We both hate there being a bad atmosphere around Fable. Neither of us are ‘fighters’. I have come to learn that I raise my voice when I’m expressing myself emphatically. He calls this shouting. I honestly don’t feel like I do shout, it’s just compared to his monotone , unnaturally calm speaking voice – I come across as a harpy! I’m being facetious but it’s not far from the truth. I have only seen Rob lose his temper a few times and that means he slams the door. He tells me I wouldn’t like to see him truly angry.
He’s mentioned something about a road rage incident as a young man where he frightened himself with his own actions. I find that impossible to picture knowing him as I do now.
So things have lightened up a bit but I’ve fucked up majorly and to him we’re now a week into my recovery. He sees what happened as a markable slip. I’m so frustrated by that but there’s no point in me trying to defend my actions, or tell him that he’s wrong. I have to accept that my disease was lying to me when it told me I was safe. That by going through my day with a plan and not at any point stopping myself, I was putting myself at risk. Even though I feel certain I wasn’t going to take any pills, my behaviour was irrational and doesn’t make sense to Rob. I have learnt a huge lesson from it. It’s no different from when I would buy alcohol and stash it. Telling myself I was being strong for not drinking it. Until, of course, I did drink it.
It’s a stupidly risky behaviour pattern and one I told myself wasn’t going to cause any real harm. I have accused Rob of catastrophizing the scenario and using emotive language to describe it – You took our baby out and bought drugs!!! He said that to me when he was really upset but to him that’s how it is. That makes me feel like complete shit. I don’t want him or anyone to think of me in that manner. I went to the pharmacy with my baby and picked up a prescription is the more palatable version but why am I trying to soften the image? Maybe I should be thinking of it in his extreme way? I should put a worst-case slant on any such behaviour instead of trying to defend it.
I just want things to be ok. I want him to look at me like this again.