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Disjointed Ramblings

I'm not in a good space today. Maybe it's just hormones; I never know when the old period is going to show up. Anyway, I feel sad, irritated, and bitchy. I hate feeling this way even when I feel the reasons behind it are justified.

So, Jim now has a blog. My discovering this was actually somewhat of an event. A few nights ago he was typing away at something which in and of itself is not unusual. He's always got a post in his head for the Salon, the email list he started many years ago, or something related to work. I'm used to waking up in the morning hearing his keyboard clacking away. I asked him if he was posting in his blog, just jokingly and he said no. I didn't think anything else about it until later when I found an email in my inbox entitled "I lied".

Apparently he's had the blog for 2 months and I never knew. The content of it is not an issue; he's been writing about faith-based issues that he has and how he is working through them. The issue is that he's written about some very intense thoughts and feelings and sharing with the blogosphere, instead of me, because he was afraid we would argue about it. That makes me sad and hurts that he couldn't bring it to me. Have I been so unwilling to listen that he felt that he had to hide his inner self (and some great writing along with it) from me?

There's a little bit of anger here, too. For a long time he was very opposed to my having a blog because he was afraid I was keeping things from him - hiding imagined writing about "others" and things I wanted to keep secret. There are no secrets to keep. I just wanted a place just to write a little bit in occasionally, which is silly since I can never remember how to log into it to post.

I'll get over this all, I know. Some husbands cheat/abuse/whatever. All my husband did was keep some writing from me. We've already talked a little bit about the subject matter in a good way. As time goes on it'll become easier. Right now I'm still just hurt and licking my wounds. Part of me wants to be pissy and let out every bit of anger I've ever had against anybody. Part me me wants to curl up in a ball and be left alone forever. Part of me wants to just disappear.

Wait, you know, I'm not sure those last few sentences have anything to do with Jim, his blog, or anything. Now I'm feeling the rage and a really bad case of the "I wants". As in "I want to be noticed", "I want to contribute", "I want to matter".

Sigh. I wish my period would fucking start.

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