Kicking Myself Into ActionI gave up handwritten journals years ago, because inevitably my husband would find and read them, and my personal entries - just like every deep, dark secret I ever revealed to him in confidence - would become fodder for the next bullying session. As I'm getting older and more exhausted by this daily crapshoot we call a marriage, I find myself in an endless cycle of acknowledging the bullshit I put up with and feeling the rush of emotion that comes with the resolve to leave/change/stop it; followed by some degree of planning/imagining my life without all the BS, only to find that somehow, I've abandoned the mission and settled back into complacency. It's especially maddening because I seem to be sabotaging my own success day after day, month after month, and it's been twenty-two years now. Twenty-two years.
Lately it occurs to me that since part of this cycle is obviously denial on my part, it would probably do me some good to put some of these experiences to paper - a Log O' Shame - if you will, in hopes of gaining a little perspective on things. I've only just discovered the Experience Project tonight, and haven't had time to explore all the options, so for now, I'll just let this be my initial entry. Tonight I became aware of how totally sick I am of constantly being called a c^#@. I'm no goody-goody, and I use my share of profanity, but really - I think we can all agree, that's one of the big guns you hold back for special occasions, no? I hear this probably an average of five or so times weekly, mostly on the weekend, and like I said, I realized tonight that I'm really, really, really, sick of hearing that particular putdown. Especially at 3am when I'm groggily walking down the hall to go pee. Seems so...unnecessary.
Okay - back to bed. I do feel I've done a little something here tonight - a baby-step maybe.