Thanks everyone. It was such a crappy week. The bank mistake, getting on the wrong bus. On Friday night my boyfriend was working at a store a couple miles from our usual one and said I should bus over to him after work and we could get a few drinks at this bar there. It would make the trip home longer, but he'd be with me, and we'd have a few drinks in us, so I figured why not. But when I got to the transfer station where I was supposed to catch my second bus, it was late. I was on the phone with my boyfriend and after a while he said maybe we should just go home. But I'm really bad with things like that, if I had a plan for something I actually want to do, and I've already put effort into it and gotten halfway, then I am going to finish it come hell or high water, because my feelings of disappointment if I don't are very exaggerated. Then I saw the bus coming, waved at it... and it blew right past me, at which point I started yelling obscenities, which I never do in public (unlike many bus riders). It turned out that wasn't really the bus I was waiting for anyway, just another one of the same route, but another driver who was waiting at the station called dispatch and got them to send me a car. They probably thought I was crazy.
It just sucks because the rest of that night was so good. The bar sells cigars so you're allowed to smoke in there, both me and my boyfriend smoke cigarettes. My boyfriend likes cigars as well, so he bought a cheap one and let me try it. I had three drinks, he had three doubles and was delighted that they didn't cut him off or measure their shots. We talked, had a good time. Talked about my bank mistake, he told me he still loved me and to look at it as a learning experience, and he thinks it upset me enough I won't do it again. It was a good night, I felt like things were almost back to normal... but then the very next morning the bus fiasco happened.

Then yesterday we had an argument, and my mom chose that time to stop by our apartment with a mini Christmas tree and some cookies, and I was so upset I wouldn't even come out of my room to see her because I knew she'd know something was wrong, and try to blame my boyfriend. I heard that my sister was there too and felt bad that I didn't see her but I just couldn't handle it at that moment. My sister is 8, so maybe she wouldn't have noticed my eyes. But I remember that age, and more likely she'd notice and just not say anything, and come up with her own ideas about what was wrong.
But anyway we were arguing about my issues, and he always says I'm doing it to myself.. which, okay, is kind of true of most of us. But that doesn't mean we mean to, why would we want to be as miserable as we are?? He just always takes this view that I should realize exactly what it is I do that causes me problems, and just stop it. As I've mentioned before, he doesn't have any mental illness, so he doesn't really get that you can't just "stop." But he's always telling me certain things he thinks will solve my problems, and if they don't make sense to me, I admit I sometimes write them off. It usually takes this breaking point for him to explain and make me understand that he understands more than I think. He understands me better than I do, most of the time.
But he's also one of those people that lets annoyance and tension build up without addressing it. Sometimes if he's annoyed he'll just go into our room and close the door. But I always feel like crap when he does that because it seems like he's mad at me. He did it yesterday, that's what started our fight, and I didn't even know what I did. I had been standing behind him while he was sitting at the computer, because we were watching South Park. It bothers him when I stand in his way, but he wasn't trying to get up anytime soon so I thought it was okay. He went to the bedroom, and I had to decide if I wanted to just let it go and feel ******, or go in there and risk a fight. I went in and asked what I even did, and he said I'd been huffy all morning, stomping around, etc. I had been cleaning actually, but he's of the opinion that no one should clean before 9am. And I probably was a little huffy, because my back really hurt, and I was confronted first thing in the morning by a cockroach in our room, which upset me because our bedroom has been the one place they haven't invaded yet. The thing is though, when he goes off by himself, it's his way of self-soothing. If I leave him alone for a while, he'll probably come out, act normal, and not mention it again. But that doesn't help me feel like he's not still mad at me. So I tried to tell him yesterday, as I have before, that he can tell me when I first start to annoy him, tell me calmly that he wants some alone time, before I unknowingly do more and more to annoy him until he snaps. We'll see if he does it. He just seems to think I should know when I'm annoying him. Often I do at least get a sense of it, but can't figure out exactly what it is I'm doing. Sometimes this makes me feel like I should just leave the room first, go be by myself because clearly no one wants to be around me. Sometimes I do that, and it seems to have the same effect on his mood as him leaving the room. But my mood deteriorates quickly, because he doesn't come looking for me. I know that's ridiculous. I just want to be around him when we're both home, even if we're doing different things, I want to be in the same room. We only get one day off together a week. But he doesn't really seem to care. I can tell myself it's because this is also one of his two chances a week to relax and do what he wants to do. But if he leaves a room without saying anything, I always go looking for him after a few minutes. Unless I know for sure he doesn't want me to. And I just feel bad when he doesn't even seem to notice I'm gone. I'll lay on our bed and just stare at the ceiling. And even if he does come in, he doesn't acknowledge that something is wrong, which he must know, because I never just sit staring into space. It just makes me feel worse than ever, but sometimes I feel trapped between being with myself and my bad thoughts, or being around him and making him mad. I almost feel like I'm being selfish if I don't go off by myself. But either option doesn't make me feel good.
Anyway I just needed to get that out...
I told him I'd stop smoking pot in the mornings. I know I shouldn't, and if I'm off work, or when I don't work early in the morning, I don't. It's just that getting up at 5:30 is grueling for me no matter how much sleep I got, and then I have to get on a bus for an hour and a half. I feel so much better if I can get stoned first. Some days I'm sure I could go without it, but don't because I think I'll be bored. But some days, when I wake up in pain and can't stop myself crying on my way out the door, I don't think I can even cope without it. I worry that when I get to work I'll still be on the verge of tears, and won't be able to help customers.
Case in point, this morning I did abstain. I got on the right bus. I didn't do anything on the first bus, when I usually read or play a game. I never have my phone with me in the morning because if my boyfriend isn't working then I have no other way to talk to him throughout the day. I was in a lot of pain this morning, I messed up my back by playing on the computer too much during my downtime at work. I cried on my way out, then felt sick when I was waiting for the bus because I couldn't blow my nose. I just sat there for the first 20 minute bus ride, feeling like a shell. On the second bus I set an alarm on my Nintendo DS and went to sleep. Woke up a few blocks from work, walked in to work. I definitely feel more agitated than I usually do when I get here. Usually I feel like it's a safe haven, at least it's not the bus. It's my little world, where I get to be alone and work at my own pace, and stay all day. But this morning everything is crap. I had to re-tie my left boot five times before I could be satisfied with the way my pant leg felt stuffed in there. I was reading all your responses just as my first customer came in, and I barely had time to wipe a tear away and act normal and cheerful.
I can only hope I feel better as the day goes on, but somehow I doubt that. And when something goes wrong, as it does most days, I'm not sure how I'm going to handle it.
My boyfriend is convinced that by not smoking the mornings, I'll get better with work right away, even if I'm mad at him for a while. I told him to remember that, and not blame me if my quality of work actually plummets at first. I just worry I won't have any patience for customers today, and already talking to them is my least favorite part of the job. But I guess being surly with a customer is less likely to get me fired than being late or making a big mistake in invoicing.

One good thing, I suppose, did come of all the mistakes I've made lately. I finally recognized an irrational belief I have. When I do something wrong, I always make excuses, explain the circumstances. That's just how I've always been. But people say I'm making excuses, finding something to blame, refusing to accept responsibility. I've never seen it that way, because that's not why I do it. But it wasn't until I was standing outside in the cold for an hour, waiting for that wrong bus to take me back to the right one, and running through in my head how I could explain this to my boyfriend, that I realized why I do do it: I think that he'll hate me if I don't. Put it this way: I have a really hard time accepting compliments, because I somehow feel like saying "thanks" or acknowledging it without disagreeing, is like saying "I know," which of course is a very rude thing to say when someone gives you a compliment. It's sort of the same thing, in the opposite direction, when it comes to taking responsibility. I feel like if I just say, "I know, you're right," and not defend myself, it will sound like I did it on purpose. I imagine the person saying, "If you know, then why the hell did you do it!" and that I somehow won't be able to explain that I know now, because I made the mistake. I didn't know before. I feel like any mistake, if I can't justify it, could make him leave me. And of course I always have a terror of anyone being mad at me, so I can't help but try to defend myself, tell them something that will make it okay, make them see I didn't mean to do it, that things just happen. I told him this yesterday. I don't know if he understands.
But he does get me... because he finally explained, in a way I understand, why he's so adamant that I smoke less and get on a regular sleep schedule. See, I've always been involved with forums like this one. I think I first joined a support group when I was 12, I'm used to talking to people like me, and I've seen a lot of resources for mental illness. I always believed, partly because of the way the community presents it, and partly because it just felt right to me, that I have to find the root of my problems and address it in order to get better. My boyfriend believes the opposite, that you should start on the periphery, focus on little things you can control, and as you do those, you'll become stronger, and have less detracting from you solving the big problems. Furthermore, he says this should work better for me because I'm the kind of person that needs to see progress, and he thinks if I get in therapy and don't see immediate results, I'll get discouraged and quit. I do know I have that habit, and had already told myself I would have to stick with a program for at least a few months before deciding it wasn't working. But he's right, I do like to see progress. It's why I like the job I have, because at the end of the day, I can see how much work I've done. It's not like retail, where you pick something up off the floor, walk by half an hour later, and it's on the floor again. It's also why I like playing video games I think, especially ones in which you level up or earn currency, because that's progress I can see. It makes me feel good, even if it is make-believe. And he's right. He just didn't put it quite that way to me before, and I thought he was just misunderstanding, thinking that my problems stem from little things like sleep, when really I believe there's something wrong in my brain. I wrote off most of his advice, because I didn't think he understood. But as usual, he understood more than I thought. Even if getting better sleep and not smoking in the morning doesn't cure my depression or anxiety, it should make it easier to handle, and take away any symptoms that were being caused by my bad habits, so I can see what's left that I really have to solve.
I don't know how he can be so clear-headed. How can he look at me and see past all the tangled mess that's in my head, and get to the heart of it, when I've been trying to do that for years and I'm still lost? It's like magic to me. He has this linear thinking that he can apply to almost anything, and come up with the right answer. I wish I could be like him. Maybe some of you understand, but he's so many things to me. Partner, lover, best friend, idol. He's my anchor, the one constant thing in my life. And I need some constancy. That's all I've ever wanted, my whole life. Not riches or fame, just a home. A supportive partner, kids, a house we can live in for decades, so our kids get to stay in the same school system for all their childhoods, unlike mine.
I strive to be like him, but I just don't know how. He has such discipline, and I'm always chasing whatever makes me feel good, or running from what makes me feel bad. /sigh
Anyway sorry for the rant, gotta get to work now.
Thanks for all the support and hugs.