Checking In
Feb. 1st, 2011 06:33 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
jianantonicWhen I landed this morning, I texted Z to ask if he was at the airport yet. He'd said he had some morning business to take care of first, and my flight was early, so I was expecting to wait. Anyway, his reply was "Of course. Looking forward to seeing you." I started crying as the plane taxied into the gate, because that wasn't the sentiment I was expecting, and I was extremely relieved. Something came up a couple days ago that was basically a game-changer for us. He was disappointed in me, and rightfully so, and I was worried it would be the breaking point. We've been doing so well lately, making a lot of progress, and both of us have been generally thinking more and more positively about reconciliation. But this put the brakes on that from his end. He decided that we needed to see each other immediately, to figure out if it was worth even trying anymore.
No pressure or anything.
So I was trembling all the way home from Salt Lake City. When I saw him waiting for me in the terminal, I hugged him hard and just cried for a good long time while he held me. He didn't know why I was crying. "What are you feeling right now?" "Shit, I don't know." I thought about it, and I guess it was mostly relief. Happy to see him, but terrified. Afraid that this visit would be my last with him. Freaked out. Unprepared. Dukes down.
We held hands and I talked about things I've been working on in therapy, gave an honest assessment of where I think I am right now -- I've made the mistake of shielding him from any negative feelings or setbacks I experience, for fear that he'll see it as a sign I haven't changed and am too much of a risk for him. And when he witnessed my meltdown yesterday, it was a harsh reality -- I haven't come as far as I have made it seem. But I think both he and I realize that I have made significant progress. I'm better than I was and still working. My meltdown didn't have the same apocalyptic characteristics as previous episodes. This is positive.
Even though I know Z is still skeptical and reeling from the disappointment I dealt him the other night, my reception here has been warm and welcoming, and I'm so grateful. It feels good to be together. It feels good to talk and reflect and be open and honest with each other. We talked about some hard things, and some questions will remain unanswered for a while yet, but I'm pleased with the way this day has gone. I've done plenty more crying, but I'm comfortable with the way I feel. I'm at peace with the unanswered questions. I love my husband and I'm glad to be here.
He had done some major work on our place -- coming home was like seeing the place for the first time -- he put up more artwork around the house, bought some new furniture, cleaned the heck out of the place, and the thing that stopped me dead in my tracks was that he added two specific touches that I had requested long ago. There is a dry erase calendar with his travel schedule by the door (a suggestion I made when we moved in), and the bed was made with a brand new comforter, exactly like the one I'd been saying I wanted for months. The place is beautiful, comfortable, and feels like home. I feel great about being here. I want to live here.
I have a lot of work to catch up on, and I need to figure out what to do about rescheduling my own adventures -- I definitely need to find a time to get down to New Mexico, because I was really looking forward to that visit, and I really can't wait to see Jess again. And hopefully Laura, too. I ran some tentative ideas by Z, but a lot of my future plans depend on where he's going to be and whether he wants to see me. I'm not planning on doing any bridge travel with him at all this year, but when he's not at tournaments, it would be nice to be together. He's not ready to commit to that yet, though, so I'm keeping my schedule open around his free time, and I'm still planning on being in Virginia to keep working with Dr. P for most of the Spring. But I may squeeze some other getaways into that time, too.
Anyway, that's the latest. Thanks for all the well-wishing. As I suspect is common with depression, I have a really hard time appreciating the love and support I get in the moments I'm at my lowest, but it's definitely helpful and important to me, and in my saner moments (most of the time, thankfully), I'm so grateful for the folks who stick by me in those darker times. I've worked hard and come a long way, but I couldn't have done it without incredible support from the folks who love me -- and I'm going to need that support for the rest of my life, so I guess I'm trying to say thanks for putting up with me, for being there, for the hugs and e-hugs, the crying shoulders, and I hope you know you're appreciated, even if the last time you saw me all I did was cry and naysay.
Peace.
No pressure or anything.
So I was trembling all the way home from Salt Lake City. When I saw him waiting for me in the terminal, I hugged him hard and just cried for a good long time while he held me. He didn't know why I was crying. "What are you feeling right now?" "Shit, I don't know." I thought about it, and I guess it was mostly relief. Happy to see him, but terrified. Afraid that this visit would be my last with him. Freaked out. Unprepared. Dukes down.
We held hands and I talked about things I've been working on in therapy, gave an honest assessment of where I think I am right now -- I've made the mistake of shielding him from any negative feelings or setbacks I experience, for fear that he'll see it as a sign I haven't changed and am too much of a risk for him. And when he witnessed my meltdown yesterday, it was a harsh reality -- I haven't come as far as I have made it seem. But I think both he and I realize that I have made significant progress. I'm better than I was and still working. My meltdown didn't have the same apocalyptic characteristics as previous episodes. This is positive.
Even though I know Z is still skeptical and reeling from the disappointment I dealt him the other night, my reception here has been warm and welcoming, and I'm so grateful. It feels good to be together. It feels good to talk and reflect and be open and honest with each other. We talked about some hard things, and some questions will remain unanswered for a while yet, but I'm pleased with the way this day has gone. I've done plenty more crying, but I'm comfortable with the way I feel. I'm at peace with the unanswered questions. I love my husband and I'm glad to be here.
He had done some major work on our place -- coming home was like seeing the place for the first time -- he put up more artwork around the house, bought some new furniture, cleaned the heck out of the place, and the thing that stopped me dead in my tracks was that he added two specific touches that I had requested long ago. There is a dry erase calendar with his travel schedule by the door (a suggestion I made when we moved in), and the bed was made with a brand new comforter, exactly like the one I'd been saying I wanted for months. The place is beautiful, comfortable, and feels like home. I feel great about being here. I want to live here.
I have a lot of work to catch up on, and I need to figure out what to do about rescheduling my own adventures -- I definitely need to find a time to get down to New Mexico, because I was really looking forward to that visit, and I really can't wait to see Jess again. And hopefully Laura, too. I ran some tentative ideas by Z, but a lot of my future plans depend on where he's going to be and whether he wants to see me. I'm not planning on doing any bridge travel with him at all this year, but when he's not at tournaments, it would be nice to be together. He's not ready to commit to that yet, though, so I'm keeping my schedule open around his free time, and I'm still planning on being in Virginia to keep working with Dr. P for most of the Spring. But I may squeeze some other getaways into that time, too.
Anyway, that's the latest. Thanks for all the well-wishing. As I suspect is common with depression, I have a really hard time appreciating the love and support I get in the moments I'm at my lowest, but it's definitely helpful and important to me, and in my saner moments (most of the time, thankfully), I'm so grateful for the folks who stick by me in those darker times. I've worked hard and come a long way, but I couldn't have done it without incredible support from the folks who love me -- and I'm going to need that support for the rest of my life, so I guess I'm trying to say thanks for putting up with me, for being there, for the hugs and e-hugs, the crying shoulders, and I hope you know you're appreciated, even if the last time you saw me all I did was cry and naysay.
Peace.
no subject
Date: 2011-02-02 12:04 am (UTC)