Chasing Cars

I want to be Wonder Woman. No, I don't want to run around town in a leotard and cape (no thanks necessary, dear readers). I want to be a woman who can do it all, have it all, be it all. I want to do things well and be appreciated for them. I don't want things to be taken for granted because BlinkBlink has a positive track record.

Some days, I hate my job. And then I feel guilty because in this economy, I know I am so lucky to have a position with stability and great benefits. Many people would kill for this kind of opportunity right now. The job has enabled me to buy a house, and if the IRS ever decides to send me a check, the purchase of that house will help me eliminate a large chunk of debt. However, I don't feel like what I do matters - like I am making a difference to anyone other than spoiled faculty members.

Today, I feel like I'm just an average person, living an average life. Average isn't enough. I want spectacular! Amazing! Exciting! Joyful! Even if it's just for today.

The L Word

I keep biting my tongue, biding my time. He's never told a woman he loves her before, and he needs to say it first. It keeps trying to worm its way out of my mouth. To say it would be as easy as breathing, because that is how I feel it.

Worthy

I'm terrified. And happy to the point that I can't stop smiling. Nice combo, huh? Mr. Random, also known as my sweet boy, is the source of my pleasure and my pain. As his new nickname would imply, he's considerate, thoughtful, and attentive. I've done nothing but be myself with him; I haven't tried to heal him or make him happy. I just give myself over to the joy of being with him, and he adores me. Which should be, and is, a cause for joy. That doesn't mean I'm not scared, though. I don't know that I am worthy of his devotion. And I worry that my insecurity will push him away.

He says things that are so amazing I feel my heart stutter in my chest, even as I struggle to catch my breath from laughing at his latest random bit. He shows me everyday that he has picked me - that he wants to be with me. After working over 70 hours last week, he still surprised me with flowers on Valentine's Day. I had started to believe romance didn't exist in real life - that movies and books had lead me down a path where I would never find fulfillment - until I met my sweet boy. Romance doesn't look exactly how I pictured it, but I think this is better. His romance, like his humor, is random and keeps me on my toes. I don't want to catch my balance.

All I want it to believe I deserve this. That I deserve him.

I'm Number One?

I meet with my therapist every other Tuesday, and each week is a revelation. The most recent one included me yelling, cursing, and, of course, crying. I left exhilarated and with a sense that it really is okay to make myself a priority in my life. It's not a secret that I constantly sublimate myself to address the needs of others, but I have also come to the realization that I have no idea of how to take care of BlinkBlink. Apparently mom isn't the only one who has neglected me. As my anxiety and depression improve through awareness and diligence, the next step is to learn how to take care of me so I am not weighed down by the very thought of trying.

It's scary to me to think that as I knock on thirty's door I still have so very much growth ahead of me. It's exciting, though, and I have to think this progress will only help me contribute in a healthy way to the relationships I hold so dear.

Breathe in, Breathe out

I need to calm down; to stop second guessing my every word and action. Cease being convinced that I'm one mistake from making Mr. Random run for the door. I know there is value in me. It's there. He knows it, too. Chill, BlinkBlink, darling, and enjoy the ride.

Open mouth, insert foot

Between the therapy and medication, I really thought I was gaining control over my anxiety. Now, I feel like the only change is that I am cognizant of the issue. I said one little thing to Mr. Random without thinking, and it quickly spun out of control. He was concerned about what I said, I was flipping about his concern and the fact that I was a colossal moron* to begin with. We finished watching our movie in near silence, then started a second one. All the while, my anxiety and fear were building to a fever pitch. By the time the second movie ended, I was a mass of nerves and worry. I couldn't sit still, I couldn't stop moving my hands around, and I couldn't stop talking or thinking. He teased me in his usual manner, and it was too much for me. I took something I know was a joke literally and had to leave the room. He heard me fighting back tears and followed me. I made him feel awkward, which made me feel worse, and I was rendered unable to talk except to stammer "I'm sorry." Obviously, he didn't know what to say in the face of an anxiety-hormone-insecurity riddled mess yet with my sniffling the only sound to punctuate the silence, my anxiety continued to build. I tried to explain that the issue was in my head, not based on anything he had done, even delving into what Generalized Anxiety Disorder is and how this lovely freak-out was symptomatic of it. He was supportive and asked some good questions, but ultimately he needed time to process the afternoon. We hugged and kissed goodbye and he left, assuring himself as he left that I was okay.

I'm tired of feeling like an insecure mess. He's more awesome than I can really process, and somewhere, not to far below the surface, I feel like I don't deserve him. Like I'm not good enough for him. I have to get this out of my head. I should be worried about whether or not he's good for me, not what I have to do to keep him. He texted this morning to check on me. He obviously likes me. Why can I believe all the wonderful things about him and none of them about me?

*my opinion at the time, not an actual accusation

Sparkling like a Cullen

Oh the weather outside is frightful, but Mr. Random is so delightful. I sent him a text saying "The snow is sparkling like diamonds. It is so beautiful." He replied "I know something more beautiful." Wow.