This is the first full week I’ve worked in six months. Over 40 hours, fully engaged, up early, up late, driving lots of miles, handling difficult aspects of projects and wading into conflict to resolve it rather than pass it off to someone else with blame.
While on a new diet that takes away food as a crutch and while resolving some challenging personal shit.
My boyfriend and I continue to have difficult conversations. I keep doubting I have the energy to keep going, but I keep pushing through.
We don’t have anything to hide behind. We don’t have money and job security, we don’t have a lot of time together, we don’t have a long history of trust and connection, we don’t even have a certain belief that we belong together. It’s fucking hard.
Because we don’t have anything to hide behind, and because we’re both sticking with the difficult conversations long enough to get past the darts and jabs, we’re starting to get honest. The kind of honest where you face shame and admit you’ve been hiding things because you’re not sure they’ll like you anymore if they know. The kind of honest where you say what isn’t ok. The kind of honest where you admit you might be the problem but this little bit is all you know and you haven’t learned enough to figure out the rest yet.
I’m not sure how many people ever get this honest in a relationship, but I don’t think many do it within the first nine months. It takes more courage than I knew I had. And I do it because I believe I matter enough to speak and hear the truth. To not walk away because I’m scared and this is really hard, but because walking away is the right thing for me. And I don’t know that yet because I don’t have enough information.
And there’s no backing down now, because we’re here, rumbling with the truth no matter how scary or how hard. AND IT’S HARD. I’m still not in neutral, and I’m not comfortable with some of the surprises I’m getting. I’m constantly in high threat mode and no one else is bringing me back down to my version of calm. While I’m rumbling with a really painful series of realizations about who I am and how I got here.
But worth it, because I’m worth it. And so is he.
I’m one green juice away from being able to eat again. I cannot wait.
My business divorce was finalized this morning, and I now own my own company outright. I can’t even get to a place of satisfaction about it because it’s been a hard week getting it done and signed off on. And there is so much uncertainty. Do I want to re-brand, do I want to do something else for a while, what clients do I want to pursue?
While not nearly as difficult as divorcing a spouse, there has been the death of a dream, of a plan and of a partnership, and there are still a few hard feelings toward my business partner for not pulling his weight. But it’s done, I can let it sit over the weekend, and on Monday start picking up the pieces so I can move forward.
I was supposed to have a care giver at grandma’s this morning so that I could leave to go to therapy and to work and do a few errands. We got a different person than who I was expecting, a new person who has injury restrictions on lifting.
I can’t have an injured person who can’t lift. Grandma has to be lifted. Right now she really isn’t bearing her own weight, she’s a bit out of her head, and I need to get her rechecked for an infection. But that all takes phone calls and paperwork and doctor’s orders.
A replacement is supposed to be here at noon, but I’m still missing my therapy appointment, I’ll need the hours I’m gone to calm down after this morning’s confusion (I had to handle the care giver and grandma) and change of plans (I was really counting on going to therapy), and I have to get some work out to a client by the close of business.
I don’t even have my laptop or clothes since I thought I was going home this morning.