011: What You've Had

 Under Pressure.

The past several weeks I have been at my lowest and I have felt like a walking exposed nerve for a while now. Work from home ceased to be fun a while ago and while getting a new portfolio initially seemed like it would be refreshing it has come with some very specific challenges of its own, matched with technical difficulties. The sticking point has been Kobo, which has a pretty demanding external team that we co-ordinate with. I had long bemoaned to Jess that the hardest part about my work has been serving multiple work channels, and while she professed to hear me, she didn't realize that this would be more of the same, perhaps in some ways worse. Perhaps this is just my lot though. What can I do but grin and bear it?

It would be easier - not perfect but easier - if we were back in the office, but that's still some ways off. They're talking about it at least, but no hard dates committed.

Pent up here like this, we've been at odds for a while now, mostly down to the fact that if she has access to me she is going to use it for all it's worth. And I can't bear to tell her no, both because of my love for her and because any time I try it just puts such an unnecessarily shitty cloud over everything that it's easier to avoid.

That's what it comes down to, you know. In the world, I am the only flexible thing. I am surrounded by immovable objects and I have to liquefy myself to get through them. My wife, my work, everything.

I reached a low this week. I had a fucking breakdown because we ran out of cream cheese and she really wanted some, so what do I do but take time out of my day to go get some? Is this fair?? Mods?? No, but tell her that. A lot of the time when I try to express my feelings to my wife - who as the only human being with whom I have regular contact, is the source of much of it - things get derailed because she takes it all personally because, hello, it's about her. We have communication issues.

We had a blow-up sometime ago, back in June, which caused me to seek (online) therapy, but while I have doled out tons of cash for it, I haven't taken much advantage. Because I know very well what my issues are, so I try to talk around them because I also know the narrative I try to create for the world and how, if I let it crumble, all that's left if wondering why the hell am I even in this situation? (Answer: it was perfectly enjoyable, if imperfect, before the pandemic.) So I think I am going to quit. Maybe I should write in here more.

Because it's not a *me* problem or even a *her* problem, it's an *us* problem, and to get solutions what we need is to have someone for *us* to talk to. But couples therapy is stigmatized because that makes it seems like you are already failing. What are we supposed to do, work it out for ourselves? I know I don't have the tools for that. 

So I had this low moment. This breakdown when I felt it all. It was coming for days. Every ask, every question, every request, everything she said was another stone on my shoulders, you know? Innocuous, innocent stuff was just adding up and I had no way to say it without lashing out, or suffering in silence. 

When I got home from buying cream cheese, I broke down in tears. I was sobbing, choking on it because I just couldn't handle it anymore. There was too much. I can't make someone understand if they don't intuit it, because it's a different set of values. I'm an empathic enough person, I feel the needs and wants of other people pretty intuitively, but having to be tuned into that wavelength at all times, to constantly be called upon to support someone's needs - when they are perfectly capable of doing so themselves - is draining. It is. I said I was drained, that it was all too much and I needed to be kinder to myself and for her to be kinder to me. She held me and said she would but I don't think she understood what I was asking for. How could she. I can't express it. Not in a way she will accept. The human brain is not wired to passively accept hearing "I love you, but loving you is a problem." It hears "You are a problem" and that means "I do not like you." But it doesn't.

I just want to be understood and accepted.

How much space can I have without being reasonably accused of neglecting her? This is why we need externally-imposed walls between us. 

We have been looking for houses all month. It was something we had nebulously talked about and then Mel got hooked up with a mortgage broker so we figured, no time like the present. It's been tough though. We can't afford much but we don't want just *anything.* There's not a lot-lot out there, so it's a seller's market, which means bidding wars we aren't really equipped to fight in. Except we have seen a few things we like, and even put bids in. The first was an older house with a lot of new finishes. Mel had to be sold on it a little bit but to me, it was the best thing we had seen yet. We were actually the top dollar bid, but the competition waived the inspection and got it. The next week, we saw a smaller, but very livable and desirable house. But the fighting was too intense.

This past weekend - the source of some of my emotional distress - we went out to Ancaster to see a place. They keep sending us stuff from Ancaster because it's a little cheaper out there, or really what's available in our price range is better. This one was definitely the nicest thing we'd seen, great square-footage, in our budget. But I mean. It's Ancaster. That would involve a bigger lifestyle change than we were hoping for. I would be particularly negatively impacted, which was hard considering I had just stated all my needs about caring for myself. But it's hard to rule out Ancaster because it's not like there are unlimited townhouses in Burlington (there are a lot though.) If we didn't offer on this then that was it - nothing was going to do it in Ancaster. 

In the end we did put in an offer - which I hoped would not be accepted, which would be so much easier for me than deciding not to. It was not accepted. Now I think, I don't want to go back out there, but we'll see.

But it's a strain. Every weekend we're back out in Oakville and running around. I have no time for the extracurricular activities that have buoyed my spirit all summer. Wah wah wah, I'm doing important things I know, but...

Well, you've gotta blow off steam somehow, right?

I think that' what it is. No steam is getting blown off.

Every so often Mel will have a night with a friend. One night I had Eric over, we went for drinks and ordered burgers in. one night I just sat around watching SummerSlam 1998. I envision myself doing great things in the nooks and crannies when I have spare time but it's never been like that. I need to decompress, then I get to try to do big things. That's why spring amd summer worked so well. I always had time. I was already decompressed I had every weekend morning. Now Labour day has passed and, what have I done? A comic blog post, and this. Because I needed time to do nothing.

I...

I had such momentum but losing that momentum has meant questioning everything, and I don't think I can stand the scrutiny.

After Ancaster, we stuck around Oakville for a few days to go to Unc's for his birthday, which was nice. Bill & Ted was on the TV, we played cards with Nonna and even some Jackbox, which was quite fun. (Trivia Murder Party, which I just barely lost to Unc and Sherlie both times.) That was good.

I think I'm going to cut it there. Mel has been napping a while and she always grouses when I don't wake her up after a good time. Tonight might be tough to get her to bed. But I so long for the time to myself that her naps afford me.

Is this healthy?

Summer turns to fall. But this transition has been easier than some years. I would say my mood is not tied to it. It's independently shitty.

Keep on rockin'

-Scotto