Blah blah blah. Woe is me. Woe is me.

I can't believe i just lost this post! Twice! Its disgusting! I poured my guts out. I said what i needed to say. And it was swallowed up into nowhere. Arg i'm so mad! I can't believe it.

Basically i pontificated the wildly fluctuating emotions i've been having the past few days. Its been hard dealing with myself. I'm freaked out that i'll freak D' out. I've felt crazy on more than one occasion. Part of me thinks its due to justified frustrations, part of me thinks i'm either making it all up in my own head and/or the birth control pills are messing me up. I wonder if i'm hardwired to perpetual dissastisfaction, depression and self-pity. Am i capable of sustaining happiness for any significant amount of time? Perhaps i unconsciously sabatoge myself due to a need to maintain the comfort and safety that comes from the familiarity of despair. Perhaps on a deep level i feel i don't deserve different.

Then a thought: perhaps my expectation/desire for happiness is ironically the actual root of my unhappiness. Perhaps it reflects perfectionistic, black & white thinking to expect a constant state of bliss. (Not to mention absurd.)

Perhaps i need to just shut up. Perhaps i am whining and being stupid.

D' has his share of moods too, but, he seems more able to take them in stride. Me? I catastrophize and freak out. Him? He seems to have a more stable, long-term perspective of things while i become panicky and fearful in a heartbeat. Poor David. How will he put up with me? Idiot!

I think i need to get out. I think i need to not think. I think i need to have some fun. Speak to someone or do something new. I'm starting to feel trapped indoors but afraid to leave. I love Dave. I enjoy him. I like being with him and making each other laugh. But, its not fair (or smart) to relegate my emotional health to being dependant on his; hinging upon his every move. That's a ridiculous amount of pressure to dump on him. Does he feel it? Does he notice? I dearly hope not. My recent caretaking and errand running feels good so long as i don't lose myself in the process. I try to contain this fragility as much as possible, but i suspect i've done a poor job.

Did i mention my birthday will be this Sunday? I didn't know if he knew or not until last night. Part of me wanted it to slide by unknown, and unnoted. Part of me hoped for the type of romantic celebration i've never experienced. And Thanksgiving is soon too. We discussed briefly what we'll do. For years now, that's been my relationship with both my birthday and holidays- denial - since holidays tend to evoke feelings of sadness and loneliness for me as opposed to the warm-fuzzies apparantly being experienced by everyone else. I guess they seem to shine a light on a conspicuous lack of loved ones in my daily life and i never liked thinking about the fact that there is nowhere in particular to go on a day intended to celebrate family and love.