Confessions of a crazy woman

I had made the decision not to write about how terribly I handle certain things.

But I think I’ve gotten away from the point of why I started this blog in the first place…or why I used to spend hours on Xanga so many years ago.

So I’m going to tell you and hope that in doing so I don’t embarrass myself or my husband or anyone else.

It’s taken me a long time to finish this post.

Valentine’s day was, as I’ve said, fantastic. I spent time with the person I love the most in this world. We got a new car.

We also went out on Valentine’s night with every intention of getting tattoos. We didn’t get there in time, though, so we just made an appointment for later in the week.

The next day we started second guessing the design we’d chosen.

We designed and redesigned and googled and doodled and wondered.

By the time the day of the appointment came around, we’d changed our minds sixty times and still weren’t firmly set on a design.

Josh mentioned, after much bickery banter, that he just didn’t want to do it. It was partially done because he was frustrated and just wanted to shut me up, and partially because he was thinking like a sensible adult and knew we shouldn’t go into something like that with any uncertainty.

I know this now. I suppose I even knew it then, somewhere deep in the recesses of my brain. But I completely flipped right the fuck on out. Every insecurity I’ve ever had, every problem I’d dealt with, and every doubt I’ve ignored came rushing to the surface and I was in pieces.

He didn’t want to get a tattoo with me because he didn’t love me. Because it would embarrass him. Because he wasn’t sure. Because for some reason an inky scar carried more weight than a sworn vow and he didn’t want to have to explain something away in a few years.

Looking back now, I see how ridiculous I was being.

But it was real then, and not because I’d skipped medicine or gotten into the cough syrup.

One of the things we’ve talked about when I’m in therapy is that I just want my life to feel normal.

Normal for me – what is that? Being secure in my relationship, secure in myself, not caring so much about how other people perceive me?

Something.

 

4 thoughts on “Confessions of a crazy woman

  1. OMG! We may be psycho twins seperated at birth!!! I am in a steady, secure, committed relationship and though we are not married, I know this is the man I am supposed to be with. We usually only have arguments about me acting like a crazy ass bitch and him basically saying, “Look, I’m fighting to spend time with YOU, no one else but YOU!!” Yet my craziness comes from my fear that he thinks I’m boring, unattractive, unintelligent or generally just being too crazy. Afterwords, I always end up feeling like an ass because I know he loves me like he’s never loved anyone before and that he loves me for who I am, crazy and all. My point: I hear ya sister!

  2. I can really relate to your story. Most girls and women get to be really insecure, crazy and paranoid at sometime. But at least at the end of the day, we learned something. Love is trust. :)

  3. Many women can relate this actually, I think it is normal to us to get insecure and paranoid to the things we want or we expect. I do accept that I just like you but then at the end of the issue I was realized and learned otherwise nothing so bad. eh. :)

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