Dirty Laundry

I typically let my dirty laundry sit in the hamper for a long time before I wash it. When I'm low on underwear or clean shirts, I wash clothes. Then the simple thought of folding all of those damn clothes makes me procrastinate, and causes those clean fluffy clothes to get wrinkled and barely presentable. By the time I'm ready to fold them, I have to do an overhaul, take great care, time and effort and put them all away. After this enormous effort and angst, I feel accomplished and I wonder why I didn't do it sooner. And then the cycle continues again at some point.

My dirty laundry is very telling of how I handle my life. I don't want to take care of things when it looks easy. I end up handling things at the last minute or when things get really bad and I'm forced to. By the time I'm ready to clean it all up, it's near disaster. But when I finally do it, it feels damn good and I wonder what took me so long.

I was honored by a comment from my favorite blogger today, Philip. He has inspired me to let it all hang out.

Today, I'm angry for allowing myself to be in a relationship where my spouse just doesn't even like me. And I don't know if he will ever see me for who I truly believe I am. He doesn't see the good in me, only the bad. And he never lets me forget the things he hates about me. I used to believe his tales of lies more than I do now, but it's still hard. I am sad more than I am happy in this relationship.

I'm angry at the fact that my abandonment issues run so deep that it's hard for me to end this relationship. This time, his scornful words came after I said, "Why don't we go to breakfast together?" I was told I was selfish and ungrateful. I was told that I would have been better off with my old boyfriend if he wasn't dead. After we both threatened to break this shambles of a marriage off, I was forced to give him all my credit cards from my wallet because "I can't be trusted." By the next day, we were somehow trying to pull it together, and when he came home from work, he gave me a hug. No words, just a hug. And I almost cried because all I really want is his love. As I write this, it feels so ugly that I can't believe this is my life.

As soon as I'm done here, I am submitting this post before I chicken out. I could just leave it in draft for my own catharsis, but maybe if I see it in print, it'll give me a good shake. Maybe more about my deep rooted anger for another time.