Last night shane's band played at a hippie commune. I really have trouble believing that those words have come out of my mouth in relation to me.
Despite the icky feeling those words give me, it was a ton of fun.
Fun, until, my social anxiety mixed with one too many yummy beers and i found myself laying in the grass wishing for someone to reach down from the sky and dropkick me home to bed. The biggest problem i have in times of distress is that i start jabbering on to shane about suicidal ideation, depression and general unhappiness. He, being the kind and gentle man he is, freaks out. Spins the car around, ready to drop me off on the fourth floor again.
Then, in the morning, i feel this giant sense of relief. I made it through the night. I am still alive. I talked about my feelings. And usually, we have come up with a new or tweaked plan for my mental health care.
Shane, on the other hand, is left a hand-wringing, acid stomached puddle of worry.
I am a hard woman to love.
Posted by Jess at 08:13 PM Permalink

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wow. icky feeling the words hippie commune give you?
learn something old every day.
hey. i am glad you got to express yourself and get through the night without a nurse.
the man you love?
the one who loves you?
he's a good one.
Posted by gwendomama | June 3, 2007 10:09 PM