Entry Number 27: What is the Real Issue

I miss Dad today, though its not just that.  My stress is piling up again.  I've seen the signs but not clearly.  The usual tug to rearrange the furniture is back.  I'd hoped the living room and bedroom would have appeased it, but truthfully I was not satisfied upon completion, and it has continued to build ever since.  It scares me to let her see me like this.  I shamefully waited until I was alone, even though I knew I couldn't hide it.  All the same it was out of guilt because I knew I shouldn't feed into it.  Not dealing with the cause only prolongs the stress..

I have to address the real issue, I'm just not sure what it is.  I guess I never really do, and that's part of the problem.

I've not only been shutting down lately, but I have been noticing it, which is good.  Its almost as if its a preemptive strike to protect myself agains an impending panic attached.  I'm just not sure why I feel the need to shut down and retreat into the safety of my mind.  Especially when the questions being asked or the situations I find myself in are truly not all that threatening.

It is so frustrating to not be able to tell her how I feel.  She deserves to know.  I want her to know.  Why can't I just find the words??  Sometimes I feel like she must already know or feel it, but that isn't enough for me.  I want her to hear the words and know with absolute certainty the emotion imprinted on my heart.  The feeling behind the rapid heartbeat that must surely penetrates my entire being when she holds me close.  Oh the things She does to me with just a single kiss.  I long for the comfort of being lost in her embrace, the peace she imparts with a simple touch or reassuring phrase.

I've never felt as close to someone as I do Her.  And She knows more of the real me than maybe I even I do..  And yet I feel like she wants more.  I am not deliberately withholding, but I don't know how to let go.  So much is still trapped behind the wall.

Its hard because I'm not used to letting anyone see this side of me.  My weakness; my stress; the unhealthy habits I've formed to deal with the outward expressions of said stress.  Its not that I feel judged, but more so that I feel ashamed of my own inability to fix the underlying problems.  Its my pride that prevents me from asking for help, and yet I wouldn't know what help to ask for even if I could.  Damn my independence that has become a stumbling block on the road to a better adjusted me.

I just don't want anyone to see this side of me, but especially Her.  In some ways I feel like I am still broken, damaged goods, and I know She deserves better, more.  (Ironically, after years in retail, She now opts to purchase the "damaged goods" in order to leave the more esthetically pleasing ones for the other shoppers.  Ha!  There's your sign...)

I hate to think I am holding her back or keeping her from something or someone better.  I promised myself I would fix myself before dragging anyone else into my mess, but when I least expected it, She swept me off of my feet and lead me to a place of happiness I never imagined could exist for me.  I finally have someone in my life who wants to help me unpack my baggage instead of helping me carry it, or worse, ignoring it.  I just don't know how to let Her help me...

Unimportant day-to-day problems have plagued the forefront of my mind, preventing me from pondering the deeper causes of my anxiety.  Home renovations, temperamental AC unit, and car trouble are all minuscule when considering the big picture, but somehow I have let the "little" things consume me.  In part, I think it is just a further reminder that my Dad and Brother are no longer here to run to when I need help.  Now when something goes wrong, I have the slightest rise of panic because I feel like I have no one.  But that is simply not true.

I have to learn to lean on my partner.  Have to accept that She is here for me and that it isn't a burden to go to Her when I need help..  She has shown me time and again that I am not going to scare her away, and yet I still struggle to accept that.  Why am I so afraid that those I love will leave me?  How can I be so "trusting" in some regard, and yet so afraid to let go and just be me?

I've found it to be increasingly difficult to articulate lately; and not just in my writing, but in spoken word as well.  It has taken me days (days!) to even get these less-than-average words in print.  I have yet to determine the source of my block..  It is so much easier to let the anxiety slip below the surface of my new found happiness that it becomes tempting to let it reside there permanently.  Only I know that isn't possible.  Sooner or later it will rise up again and I will find myself giving in to the need to control my life, my safety, and the rearranging will begin.  One of the many outward expressions of an inner turmoil I am still learning to control cope with.  Perspective is everything.  If only I could see what I am doing to myself through a clear lens, then maybe I could stop the pattern.