DH and I FINALLY had a talk. It went relatively well. It was one of those mornings where I was up early and my mind was clear and I thought I could say everything I wanted to say in a clear, direct manner. DH was up as well and not yet on the move to go to work. The kid was still asleep. It seemed like the perfect time. I prefaced the whole thing but asking him not to speak until I had finished – a rare event – but it worked. I got it all out, how I had been feeling, why I had been feeling that way and making it clear that saying “What’s your problem?!” was not helping. I kept my tears at a minimum. I pointed out that he seemed only willing to share his frustration and anger but not his vulnerability and tenderness which until I had actually said, it occured to me that that was exactly what I was missing from him.
Then he had his turn. Of course, typically, he didn’t actually acknowledge what I had said (oh, lord, does this remind me of my father), but he unloaded as well. In short form, he was burnt out and tired and at times just didn’t want to deal with me as well.
Sound familiar – yep, honey, that’s my point, we don’t want to deal with each other. So we just shut down. This was a great start. Communication has always been our problem. We don’t talk enough about the things that matter. Oh, yes, we talk about the care and feeding of the kid incessantly. And the care and feeding of the dog. Take this to the laundry, where’s this and what about that? That gets said, but not much else at the end of the day. Our respective families always turn to us when they have a problem. We are both the contact person when the shit hits the fan. Shit is always hitting the fan. We never ask others for help.
In my case, I eat. Anger, boredom, sadness, fatigue – it’s all in my tummy and thighs. Feelings of invisibility lead to wanting to be invisible. Which brings me back to …. I’m at the weight I was a few years ago. Again. Oi. Can’t say I have any physiological reason other than I ATE my way there. When your world shrinks to that of your household, one can go a little bit crazy. I love being part of the world, being part of community and friends. I feel connected and energized. I stay home when I want to recharge but home these days is my workplace. So I never stop working. I bloomed doing youth activities with Buddhist organization and also with my hanging out with my acting peers. I was plugged into such positive energy, creative energy, I was heard and respected and acknowledged for the value I could bring to the table.
Becoming a mother, for me, has meant slowing down, staying home, putting the focus on nurturing this incredible little being. His schedule trumps all. I don’t regret it AT ALL, but it’s obvious that I haven’t handled the isolation at all very well. Even as a women’s group member in my district, the onus is on taking care of the members in your district, your home, so to speak. So even in that respect, my world shrunk even more. Not working in the arena that I was comfortable in, has dealt my ego a serious blow. Being expected to take care of the kid, the home, the dog, my mum, means my needs aren’t so important anymore. This is not news to me, I get it. I’m a woman. Ah, life. Suck it up, buttercup.
On the moving forward from here train, I signed up for acting classes again, been making it to the gym more often, the weather is improving so we are getting out of the house more. Hubby and I are going on a diet. No more treat gorging at night! We’re going on vacation in a couple of weeks and – I booked a gig! Finally – yay for me! It’s a commercial for the phone company. As a matter of fact, I’ve got ten minutes to shower, and get some stuff down before I leave for world peace gongyo and a wardrobe call.
You know, I may have been a bitch lately, but that’s not such a bad thing, is it? If I don’t speak up, I don’t get what I want. I just EAT what I want. And what I don’t want is to eat up and swallow my discontent. Though, I have to say that chocolate covered discontent is mighty tasty.