Chipper

Long time no write, eh? Just don't have the time or inclination anymore.

I guess things are good. Nothing to bitch about.

* * * *
I've begun weaning myself off of the Celexa. My reason for doing so is not that I feel so elated that I don't need it but because I feel normal again, meaning I can experience a full range of emotions again, like I've normalized or something. I will monitor my emotional progress carefully, and see how I do.

* * * *
Good work at HeadShrinker's the other day. Seems I can come to the point more quickly and am better able to discern what I need to work on. Last week I talked about my dis-ease with Rover's devotion turnabout and about how his new-found excitement for me makes me feel smothered which, in turn, makes me want to pull away and/or reject him in some way. I also came to the conclusion that I'm a good communicator when everything is going well, but when I start to have negative feelings about a relationship I am at a loss and am afraid to say anything because I am so afraid that expressing doubt or displeasure will shut my partner down and make him turn away from me. So we discussed these issues, among others, and she hooked them into my past experiences.

Then I went to Rover and we had a long talk. In many ways, I do not communicate well with him, and the talk was so frustrating that I began to sob uncontrollable at my inability to get my point across. He took me home (because we were out in public when I began crying), helped me into my p.j.'s and put his arms around me and told me he loves me and told me he wants me to talk to him, to tell him anything, and that he will try to understand. So I began again and, by the end, he still had absolutely no clue what I was talking about and was frustrated and upset because I was crying so hard at my inability to communicate.

He figured I was so upset because I was unhappy with him and with us. Why else, in his mind, would I be sobbing so uncontrollably? He wanted me to tell him something concrete, to tell him what was wrong, specifically, to tell him what I was unhappy about.

But I am not unhappy. About anything with him. He is being great. Wonderful. Everything I want. And so I told him I am not unhappy. Assured him, most definitely, that I am happy with him and with us but that it is more just that I am terrified to have faith in us, in me, in anything because nothing has ever worked out for me in the past, but that I love him and that I am just afraid to let myself.

So he took me in his arms again and kissed my forehead and wiped my tears and told me he was not going anywhere and that he loves me more than he has ever felt or known and that he is terrified too.

And we awoke happily as we so often do anymore, glad to be in each other's presence, him asking me to tell him what zany dreams I'd had that night. And I did. That next night I saw him again, sitting comfortably on his couch watching the boob tube while he did his thing at his place, coming upstairs every few minutes to smile at me, give me a kiss, and chat just a bit between tasks.

Things are good.

* * * *
And I am back on track in other ways, too. Last weekend and the weekend before, I began tending to my house and my yard in earnest. Tuesday I spent the day doing chores and getting things done around here. It is nice to have my house back. I am glad Roomy moved out. And I am glad the law office is cutting back on my hours (not financially, but...), because now I don't feel as if I'm rushing around like a crazy person.

* * * *
So that's that. Now I think I'll log off and go check in on my blog buddies. Talk to ya later.