The weather is finally getting better. It's not boiling hot out like it was. It's been pleasant and comfortable. I've even been able to get 8 hours of sleep! Haven't done that in what feels like a life time. I hate summer. I wish it would be winter all year round.
Besides the much needed break from hell (aka- the heat) things have been going ok. I actually have a topic to write about for this blog, so it may be a long one (brace yourselves).
This weekend the unreal occurred. Sean and I.... got in a fight. I was shocked to realize that it actually happened. The perfect couple mentality went down the drain. I felt horrible. We're not supposed to fight. That only happened with my most dysfunctional relationships. You know, the 2 year long one that ended because he was unwilling to give a crap about me and cared more about fixing phones and buying junk and not being a boyfriend, but more of being a part time friend. Or the 7 month long relationship where I saw him 1 day a week for a few hours. He cared more about his friends then he ever did about me. I came to find out that he never loved me anyway. (a tough pill to swallow btw)
Sean and I can't fight! We can't! We just can't! After nearly 4 months this was our very first fight. I felt like such a failure. The fight didn't last long. We were upset with one another for maybe an hour and then all was fine. But the thought really bothers me.
Through out it all, I stayed calm and didn't raise my voice or put up much of a fight. I just let him do whatever, get mad, yell, storm out... whatever he needed to do to calm himself down. I have no idea how I was able to stay calm. I guess it all really stems from when I went to visit my dad last year. The last time (that I will ever show my face there again) I saw him he yelled at me for around 10 minutes straight and proceeded to remind me of how stupid I was, how wrong my beliefs were (as being a vegetarian) and how everything I think and feel is stupid and that I'm dumb and wrong for everything and how all this stuff is my fault, blah blah blah. Through it all... I didn't say a word. Why? I would have been wrong no matter what I said. I mean, he's the one that has to live with the regret of hurting his oldest daughter and for destroying our relationship. Not me. I don't feel guilty or bad for anything.
Another time, back in October 2010. I was invited to a wedding. I had relatively short notice. I was happy for my friend that she was getting married but due to a number of personal issues I was having I did not go. She went CRAZY. She blew up my cell phone, my Facebook inbox, my Facebook chat. I mean talk about going postal, she just lost her mind. I wasn't particularly very close with said person. I did apologize and informed her that I was going through a lot and that I was unable to go due to unexpected things. (It was the truth). Nope, not good enough. She cursed me out and said that I'm this horrible person and that she doesn't want to be friends anymore. I simply said “If you no longer want to be friends with me, I respect your decision and wish you and your husband the best of luck and lots of happiness.” she went crazy SOME MORE! (seriously, wtf!?) she started yelling and getting more upset and wondering why I didn't care. I (again) kindly said “If you are unhappy being friends with me, I can't force you to be my friend. That's like forcing someone to love another person when they don't/can't. You can't make anyone do something they don't want to do.” She was still pissed, like I'm supposed to give a crap. So she ended the friendship. I shrugged my shoulders and have moved on. I'm an adult. I have no need for childish games and unnecessary drama. She needed to grow up and act her age. For being 31 she really acted like a 10 year old little girl.
I think my ability to not “put up a fight” has to do with two things. My age and my experience. At 28 I try to keep my stress and anxiety level as low as possible. I avoid it as much as I can. I don't want to end up with another anxiety attack. That was the worst experience of my life. It has changed me forever. So I avoid anything and everything that may trigger an attack. At least things in MY control. A big thing that did it was, being there for others. Being the one to listen to the sob story that I heard 1,000 time prior like it was a new thing. Getting 10 phone calls a day and cringing each time the phone rang because I KNEW what it was going to be about. More bitching, crying and moaning about crap I didn't care about. Wanting to scream “GROW UP! Let go! And move on!” I guess not everyone can do things as easily as I can. Being upset for a month or two about something, that's one thing, carrying on about it for over a year, that's a whole other story.
I know I'm a strong person and can deal with things the majority of people are totally incapable of doing, but come on! I'm only one person. I decided (after my anxiety attack) to put my foot down and take care of ME! My needs, my wants, my feelings, me! Me! Me! Me! MEEEE!!!! and so far, I'm MUCH happier then I was. With the assistance of my Psychologist and my therapist and medication (Lexapro & Xanax) I can honestly say I'm doing very good. I'm going to be on medication to help with everything for the rest of my life. According to my doctors, and the proven positive results, it's what I needed to help me.
I also give credit to my friends (Jenn & Sarah) and my boyfriend (Sean). I don't think I could continue to be this strong in life with out having people that love and accept me like you guy. I can't forget the loves of my life. My fuzz butts! They are my constant reminder that no matter what, I'm not stupid, I’m not wrong in my beliefs, that the choices I have made may not change everyones life, but rescuing 24 little rats sure changed their lives, and mine.
Thank you Glee for making a song that I can completely relate to :)
