Stories one tells themself

One thing I have become very aware of in this relationship, is the stories I tell myself when a trigger happens.  This came out of self protection, and out of self preservation as to not be blindsided during conversations with my family.  It is hard for me to just talk and share my feelings to another.  This comes from not feeling like anything I say is important. My father would not sit and talk to me, the paper was always up between us, or something like that. It is not useful. I don't listen clearly because of it.  Some days are easier than others in regards to the stories. Today is not one of those days.

I have been doing pretty good today, was able to rationally deal with my emotions. But this evening not so good, this is because I see things and make up meanings that might not be true.  Then I act on those meanings, instead of asking questions.  Even just writing this hurts, and makes me feel lost.  I hate questioning all this. I hate the stories in my head.  I want them gone and I want to feel found.

These stories exhaust me to no end. The overwhelm my emotions and stress me out so that I can't do anything.  Living becomes a chore.  I hate these stories. I hate making them up. I hate living this way.  I want my life, without stories and without being so afraid to live it.

Hard lessons being learned

I am learning how to deal with my needy desires...I never realized how needy I was until recently being shown how they have affected my relationship.  It is hard owning this. The shame I feel for hurting someone so much is something I feel daily, but trying not to act on it. I know that while he is willing to stay with me and work through this, there is a distance between us. This distance I know is because of my actions.  I don't know if we will get back what we once had.  I know everything is contingent on my growth in this area and certain behaviors changing. This is hard. It is hard because I need to stretch myself and I need to trust completely. It is sometimes overwhelming for me. I have no expectations of him right now. I can't. I need to trust him and to love him.

As I become more and more conscientious of things, and try to remember to stop, breathe, and center before I respond to something, I feel the tension in my body. Awareness of my muscles tensing, my heart speeding up, the acids in my stomach churning that I can't eat, are very present. but it is hard.  As my body tenses it is like my muscles are hardening to create an armor to protect me.  this is hard

This is armor I don't want because it is not helpful armor, it is the armor that has kept me shut down for 40 years. It is the armor that did not let me fully trust people, that kept me hidden and alone.  So as not to allow this armor to stick, I am constantly stretching my shoulders, my back and my body.  I am allowing myself to feel what it like to stretch open, instead of shutting down. This physical, emotional, and mental stretching is an actual feeling - like physical pain, or pleasure - that I am feeling.  Instead of eating or running away from it. But it is hard.  I know I am supported in this work, by him and by others. But it is hard, because I am constantly questioning. Even now I want to say things about what I am feeling but I stop myself, realizing they might come across wrong or hurtful.  So it is hard and very tiring.

I just hope everything will turn out the way it is supposed to. yes to be honest, I have a desire around how I would like it to turn out, but I recognize that is a desire, and might not be the true outcome.  And I realize how much this blog is helping too.