Anger.

 I've never thought of myself as an angry person. I get uncomfortable when others openly express anger, so I have always assumed that being an "angry person" is just not part of my personality. However, I am learning that I am wrong.

I am noticing the way I react in different situations and that there are times -- more often than not -- that I am reacting in a way well beyond what is necessary for the situation.

Shoes left in the entry way? Pissed off.

Towels not folded and put away? Pissed off.

Went grocery shopping without me? Pissed off.

Had a friendly conversation with the attractive neighbor? Livid!

None of those situations are reasonable reasons for me to get as angry as I do, and yet I find myself boiling over in these scenarios. I'll let these situations simmer for a few days until, like a pressure cooker that has built up too much steam, I'll blow and send out those sharp daggers of my anger out at those closest to me. Typically Gerry. He bears the brunt of 99.9% of my outbursts, which usually consists of my having built up all sorts of unreasonable, irrational assumptions about him and us. I am convinced he is cheating on me. I am convinced he is purposely withholding conversation from me. I am convinced he is intentionally doing things to make me angry. None of it is really true, and if any of it is, it is because I make conversation difficult because it becomes an argument all the time.

It's not like this every day, but enough that over the last year or so it has become so regular it is almost predictable. I try to assign all sorts of other explanations for it, like I am tired, I am not happy with work, my schedule is all wonky, however the real explanation is that this is a part of my personality that needs to be addressed, dealt with and controlled.

I am not liking these revelations about myself, but I know that if I don't face them and deal with them then nothing will really ever change for me. I don't want that. Life is learning, and I have to be open to that -- even though some of the stuff I learn might be super unpleasant.

My Therapist Told Me To.

 My therapist keeps telling me to write things down: thoughts, feelings, anxieties, etc. I keep meaning to, but never give myself the time to do it. There is always something else more important, or more interesting to distract my mind from thoughts, feelings and anxieties I'd rather avoid than sort through. However, I am on my way to 43 years old and I am always seeking ways to improve myself and my life, and at this present time those thoughts, feelings and anxieties are the things that need to be sorted through if any improvement is to be made.

So yeah. I am in therapy. With a bona-fide, doctorate degree hanging on the wall, therapist. In the past I've sought out mental-health help from professionals with counseling licenses, and have never stuck with it. I always felt they were too "soft" on me, for lack of a better description, so I never felt like it was a good fit. Mary is a wonderful fit, though, and I've been seeing her now for almost 3 months now.

I find that I tend to go through evolutions in my life every 10 years or so, and I feel like I am coming up on one now. The last year or so I've felt really unsettled and unsatisfied with where I am and what I am doing with my life, which prompted my successful (so-far) return to school. I've done well in school, but I fear that other areas in my life have suffered some. My relationship with Gerry being a big one.

I tend to be the kind of person who has difficulty giving my energy to more than one person/activity at a time. I don't have a huge group of friends because I find it too exhausting to try to entertain more than one or two close friendships. When I am in a romantic relationship, that person tends to become the main focus of my "friendship" attention, and that's the way it has been for the last 8 years with Gerry and I. I still have my other friends, but I don't do anything social with them anymore. On one hand that bothers me, because I *should* be doing those things, right? Girls night out. Book clubs. Painting parties. Mom Proms. All those kind of events that I see so many other people on social media enjoying. And part of me wants to partake, but a larger part of me is okay with staying at home and spending my time with Gerry. For seven of the last eight years Gerry and I have been together, it's pretty much been him and doing everything together. We cook together, drink together, go on day trips together, etc. And I've enjoyed it all. I love spending time with him. Yet.

I started back to school last fall. I made the decision to go back to school a year before. I was nervous, but excited. Anxious, but eager. And because it was something NEW, my attention turned to focus more on it than on other things in my life. Other things like my relationship with Gerry. Now, it should be expected that there would be understanding that there would be a change in our relationship -- there would be less time for us. I work more afternoons, so we see each other less. We don't talk as much as we used to, and I know that leaves me often feeling left out of his life. When I crawl into bed at night after coming home from a shift I feel guilty for disturbing him because he gets up early for work in the morning. I miss starting our days with coffee and breakfast together and ending our morning dates with a kiss and an "I love you" before heading our separate ways. We don't cook dinner together as often as we used to. Sometimes I just don't feel like there is a "we" anymore. He is an "I" and I am an "I".

I'll write more later. I am feeling like I am shifting from wanting to just unload these feelings in a constructive way, to using this as a platform to express all my dramatic musings. I just want things to be simple, and right now I am feeling far from that.

Perhaps a soak in the tub and a good book will help.