4:20 in the morning. We are soon to move to Olympia. My throat is itchy and dry and my nostril is plugged. Ears are on fire. Damn allergies.
This move has been difficult but -- I am in a better place than I have ever been in my whole life. Every time I find myself slipping into self-pity, I stop. It used to be a habit, dwelling on what is going wrong and what is screwing me over. Not so much anymore. Every time I feel that urge, I turn it off, and it seems natural. He hasn't made this easy, that is for sure. He is so insecure about himself that he is moping a lot.
He says he is sorry he isn't the man I married. I don't care. How can I get that through to him?! I still love him and appreciate him for what he is and for what he can do for me, not for what he can't. YES doing all this on my own is hard, dear christ it is hard. But it must be done. That's that. It must be done and I will push on to the best of my ability and I will congratulate myself when I come out on the other end.
He's doing what I would often do...looking at the deficits in a situation instead of the boons. Nothing is ever perfect, and change is inevitable - I try so damn hard to make it easier for him, more palatable, but it seems impossible. I can't dwell on his unhappiness though. I have to focus on being damn proud of pulling myself up by the bootstraps and getting done what they say can't be done - a successful chronically ill person.
BE FUCKING PROUD OF YOURSELF GODDAMMIT. That is a reminder to myself.
I can do this, and it's going to be great. Times of upheaval are always tough, but this is gonna be so fucking worth it. He has just GOT to get over his insecurities. Be confident in yourself, motherfucker!