Day 3

So, Day 3 didn’t start out that great. My allergies have been bugging me a lot lately, and they make me quite tired. Especially since I can’t sleep if I can’t breathe. Breathing is important. And when I get tired, I tend to get extra frustrated with myself. Note the use of the word ‘extra’. Because really, I am normally frustrated with myself. Very easily. I tend to forget things pretty easily. Like, for instance, yesterday I forgot my dinner at home and had to go back for it. Which in turn made me late for work, another thing that frustrates me, because it happens all the time, due to my lack of remembering things. Plus, as I realized last night, I had thought about what I was going to eat yesterday, but forgot about today, yet another day I’m in the box office alone for awhile. So my lunch consisted of a cold, 2 hours old bagel with cream cheese from Tim Hortons. It’s still food, but it’s not the best lunch ever. I planned to make something before I left for work this morning, but guess what? I forgot.

I also tend to misplace things a lot or just fail to put them back in the proper spot. My favourite/most annoying example of this is how I like to pile my clothes on the back of my desk chair instead of putting them away after I’m done with them. So I frantically try to figure out where my blue sweater is on the morning I want it, only to have to sift through 7 different piles of clothing to find it.

Oftentimes, I say that ‘I hate being myself’. Yes, this is terrible. I don’t say it because I hate myself, but being myself can be very frustrating. I can’t seem to remember things at all, or be organized at all, no matter how hard I try. I’m hoping that once Daric and I are living together and I actually have enough space to put my things, this will improve. I don’t honestly see how it can get worse. My whole life is crammed into one room with two cats and too much stuff.

Maybe the problem isn’t me. Maybe it’s my life. My life is not what I want it to be. Not yet anyways. I mean, I found a wonderful, amazing man who loves me more than anything, but he’s stuck in a sandpit of doom halfway around the world. My everyday life is made better by having him, but it’s still what it’s always been. It will soon be what I want it to be, and if I can just hold out for another few months, I’ll get to it. And I’ll have an apartment to put all my (our) crap into. And organize the heck out of it. As much as I can’t wait for that, I will never resent him for doing what he’s doing. He loves it, and he’s brave. And I know that waiting for that everyday life we want will make it so much sweeter. Plus, he definitely has it worse. CHUs are not the Hilton.

Speaking of him…well, to put it mildly, he likes to buy me things. I say I’d like to have something, and he’s all “You’ll have it in a week.” He loves to buy me gifts, and wants to provide for me. And yet, this morning when I said I wanted something and he wanted to buy it for me, I told him no. I thought, it’s too expensive. I don’t deserve it. I need to earn it. And then I thought about that and realized something. That it’s bullshit. I wouldn’t allow my amazing husband to buy me something that I have wanted for a while, all because I don’t feel worthy of it? A thought that brings me back to my self-esteem. Why do I feel like I have to be worthy of a gift from my husband? Beyond him thinking I deserve it and wanting to buy it for me, I shouldn’t need a reason. I actually prevented him from showing me love because of my own sense of devalued worth. What kind of person does that make me? I’m sure there’s a nicer way of saying ‘a huge bitch’, but I’m not creative enough to come up with it. So, I’m going to force myself to apologize and ask him if he still wants to buy it for me, and let him. I give myself the excuse of not wanting to take advantage of him and his kindness and love, but he says he knows I won’t, and I’m not that kind of person. So by saying that, I’m actually covering up my own low self-esteem by making myself seem like I’m denying him buying things for me for his own good, when it’s really because of my own crappiness. Not good for a relationship. Not good for a self-esteem. I won’t do it anymore. I wonder how else people cover up their low self-esteem by pretending they’re actually doing something to help/save/respect/(fill-in-the-blank) another person instead.

I know one thing…denying my husband’s attempts to show me affection is not good for either of us. And so it ends.

Since I’m at work, I can’t access my email to see what my assignment is for learning about the Proverbs 31 woman today. I might post on it later. This, I just needed to get off my mind.

Much love,

Amanda