I want this blog to be completely honest in a soul baring sort of way. Yes, we can joke around all we want, but when it comes down to it, we’re going to get serious. And this is serious. So, let me be completely frank with you here: I have a recently discovered massive anxiety problem, I’m currently pmsing, and I’ve been so wrapped up in my excitement between Valentines and my one year anniversary yesterday, that to have it all suddenly over is completely deflating. I slept most of today, was exhausted the whole time, and woke up feeling quite miserable. And then, of course, I get into a fight with my boyfriend.
Now, let me rephrase that. It wasn’t a fight, per say. Rather, it was me freaking out over something I knew was irrational, and him being slightly dumb about the whole thing. And by slightly, I mean that we can partially excuse him because he’s a young boy who doesn’t really understand all the finer trash of my volatile emotions, and I’m decently bad at communicating myself.
So, of course, things blew up. I needed a little bit of attention to prevent me from sitting upstairs crying my eyes out for no other reason then the sense of loneliness periods can bring on, and he needed his space because he’s gone back to working full time and he’s had a busy week with no time to himself. We were both a little drunk, he’s a bit tactless, I’m a bit whiny, and we more or less pout at each other until I finally decide to give him what he wants, and ditch. I leave, take a seat on the couch, start bawling, and suddenly the world’s ending.
He doesn’t want me around, does he? Sure, he says he just needs a bit of space, but it’s really just because I’m too much for him to handle, isn’t it? How are we supposed to work out when he can only handle me for one evening at a time? And honestly, what the heck is he doing? I’ve made countless meals for him, spent four hours cleaning his basement, put up with him being dumb, always made sure he’s okay, and went out of my way on numerous occasions just to make sure he knows I’m a safe person who’s always there when he needs. And yet here he is, unable to give me even just half an hour to make sure I’m okay and that I don’t cry myself to sleep.
From here, I had a few choices to make. Do I:
- Let myself cry, try to stop myself from feeling so miserable, and suck it up. Wallow in my own self-pity.
- Go back downstairs, interrupt whatever conversation my boyfriend’s now having with his friends, and force him to talk to me.
- Make passive aggressive comments to him on Facebook until he clues in to the fact that I’m ticked, which will only make him more annoyed with me.
Option two may have been the best out of those three, but let’s rewind for a second here to something I said earlier.
I’m decently bad at communicating myself.
Listen, my boyfriend did a wonderful job of telling me what he needed. He said that he had been working a lot, and that he had another full week ahead of him from here. That it was important to him that he spent time with me yesterday for our anniversary, but he needed some time to hang out with his friends and relax in order to recharge for the next week. However, he was going to be off work earlier than 3am tomorrow, so we could do something then maybe? Bottom line is, he did well.
And then there was me. Whining at him for not giving me enough attention. I sat there, crossed my arms, told him that I was pmsing, and whined some more. I didn’t bring up the fact that I didn’t want to sit there by myself crying for the next few hours, and that I wanted, and needed, him to help deflate me before I escalated too much.Crying didn’t even come into it until he asked me if I was feeling teary, and all I did was nod and pout some more.
I was the problem, not him. Yes, he needs to learn how to be a bit more tactful, how to understand my crazy emotions a little better, but how can I expect him to understand any of that when I don’t tell him? All I do is go back upstairs, debate messaging him up and telling him something like ‘it would be nice if I was as important to you as your spare time is,’ and cry.
That’s dumb, and that’s not how you relationship. That’s how you let your anxiety get out of hand, and if I told you how many times I let things escalate to the point I thought the world was ending and we were about to break up, you’d shake your head and never listen to me talk again.
Thankfully, however, I’ve learned a bit throughout the past year, and instead of choosing any of the above options, I chose the one that would de-escalate things right away. I was honest with him. I messaged him up, told him that I respect his need for space and I want to make sure he gets what he needs, but that I was ticked off and upset, and I’d like to talk to him.
You know what happened? He apologized. He asked me what he could do to make me feel better, and although he had a friend over in the middle of our conversation, he came upstairs to make sure I was feeling okay. He made it clear that he had no idea what he did to make me upset, but that he loves me, he wants me to feel better, and that he’s willing to make his friend wait an extra few minutes in order to check on me first.
Yeah, I’m going to have to explain myself to him later. It’s not fair for me to get angry with him and not explain why, especially when the situation has happened before, and, knowing me, it’s going to happen again. But you know what? I’m proud of myself. Instead of getting snarky, or sitting and moping in my own misery and waiting until I puke in the toilet again because my anxiety got so high, I did the mature, responsible thing, and was honest with him. Not in a mean way, not in an accusing or a demanding way, but in a ‘I love you but I’m ticked off and want to work this out,’ sort of way.
L0ok, I’m not saying de-escalating situations is easy, especially when you get wrapped up in your own anxieties. I’ve never done it before, to be honest. I just did what I can to ‘fix’ myself.But as my anxiety worsened and I got into a serious relationship with someone who finds honesty to be one of the most important things, I’ve had to learn to be more honest myself. I’m not always good at it – this is one of the first times I’ve ever went so far to be open with someone. And you know what? It went really well. Yes, it’s taken me a year of practicing, freaking out, one-sided arguments, and a plethora of break up scares, but tonight I’m sitting in bed, writing and watching Netflix instead of crying myself to sleep.