So John went back to work in June part-time as guy #3 at a start-up. Two weeks ago, that dynamic shifted as one founder ousted the other… now John’s considering full-time. I suppose it’s about that time again. He had a long sabbatical the first time around, and this second time around was definitely needed but I guess it’s run its course as well. He made some huge strides in each, but with this latest one, he met some solid health goals, adopted a good routine, and the other day, he admitted that he had finally reached a happy place. Whew, is that all it took (right??)?

I think my defense mechanisms are on guard… I’m apprehensive about him being guy #2 at a start-up: the chaos is never good for stability and calm but at the same time, I admit that intellectually, those are the projects that draw him. So, here we go again. Are there new lessons? new tools? Yes, and I’m sure they’ll be put to the test.

As for me, I wonder about the start-up job for myself. I am also drawn to the intensity and energy and pace, but I’m not convinced it’s good for me. Sometimes secure and stable is comfortable. And I do enjoy my free time. 🙂 I just worry about this government job making me soft. These are all things I need to actually devote some of my free time considering!!

In other news, my skin is better… still not to the level I’m aiming for but goddamn, the whole thing last month was such an ordeal. I was experiencing all kinds of disfigurement (months of this bullshit), so I went to my esthetician at the acne clinic. She suggested spironolactone. My med friend suggested I inquire with my primary care doctor. I contacted her, and she didn’t feel comfortable prescribing for that use, so she recommended I see a dermatologist. Fine, whatever. Of course the derm was booked out like three weeks. When I finally saw her, she suggested changing my BCP and then going on Retin-A. Meanwhile, she wanted to try injecting me on the chin with some cortico-steroid. She said she wasn’t sure if it would help but she totally passed it off as no big deal and worth a try. Fine, let’s do it. Two weeks later, I get the bill and it’s fucking $200+ out of pocket. Those injections were classified as “surgery”!! Jesus f-ing christ. I dunno, maybe this is how shit went down when my father was practicing, but I doubt it. I feel like my dad at least gave people a heads up for how much shit was gonna cost. Like he would tell them to admit to the hospital after midnight so they wouldn’t be billed a whole day for just a couple hours in the late evening. No, $250 is not going to prevent me from buying groceries, but still, it’s annoying that the doctor would ASSUME the procedure/med is something I could afford. I mean, I know most derm stuff is elective but still, I would have appreciated some kind of communication like, “I’m not sure if this injection will help at all, but if you want to give it a try, it costs $XYZ. Do you want to proceed?” Otherwise, how the hell am I supposed to know how much my insurance will cover? Btw, now that I think of it, in the past I have asked the cost of procedures, and typically, I get some lame response like, we don’t know, you will have to call your insurance… ugh. Just seems like there could be a little more transparency there.

Ok, well time for an abrupt end to this posting. Hot tub time. 🙂

So John went back to work in June part-time as guy #3 at a start-up. Two weeks ago, that dynamic shifted as one founder ousted the other… now John’s considering full-time. I suppose it’s about that time again. He had a long sabbatical the first time around, and this second time around was definitely needed but I guess it’s run its course as well. He made some huge strides in each, but with this latest one, he met some solid health goals, adopted a good routine, and the other day, he admitted that he had finally reached a happy place. Whew, is that all it took (right??)?

I think my defense mechanisms are on guard… I’m apprehensive about him being guy #2 at a start-up: the chaos is never good for stability and calm but at the same time, I admit that intellectually, those are the projects that draw him. So, here we go again. Are there new lessons? new tools? Yes, and I’m sure they’ll be put to the test.

As for me, I wonder about the start-up job for myself. I am also drawn to the intensity and energy and pace, but I’m not convinced it’s good for me. Sometimes secure and stable is comfortable. And I do enjoy my free time. 🙂 I just worry about this government job making me soft. These are all things I need to actually devote some of my free time considering!!

In other news, my skin is better… still not to the level I’m aiming for but goddamn, the whole thing last month was such an ordeal. I was experiencing all kinds of disfigurement (months of this bullshit), so I went to my esthetician at the acne clinic. She suggested spironolactone. My med friend suggested I inquire with my primary care doctor. I contacted her, and she didn’t feel comfortable prescribing for that use, so she recommended I see a dermatologist. Fine, whatever. Of course the derm was booked out like three weeks. When I finally saw her, she suggested changing my BCP and then going on Retin-A. Meanwhile, she wanted to try injecting me on the chin with some cortico-steroid. She said she wasn’t sure if it would help but she totally passed it off as no big deal and worth a try. Fine, let’s do it. Two weeks later, I get the bill and it’s fucking $200+ out of pocket. Those injections were classified as “surgery”!! Jesus f-ing christ. I dunno, maybe this is how shit went down when my father was practicing, but I doubt it. I feel like my dad at least gave people a heads up for how much shit was gonna cost. Like he would tell them to admit to the hospital after midnight so they wouldn’t be billed a whole day for just a couple hours in the late evening. No, $250 is not going to prevent me from buying groceries, but still, it’s annoying that the doctor would ASSUME the procedure/med is something I could afford. I mean, I know most derm stuff is elective but still, I would have appreciated some kind of communication like, “I’m not sure if this injection will help at all, but if you want to give it a try, it costs $XYZ. Do you want to proceed?” Otherwise, how the hell am I supposed to know how much my insurance will cover? Btw, now that I think of it, in the past I have asked the cost of procedures, and typically, I get some lame response like, we don’t know, you will have to call your insurance… ugh. Just seems like there could be a little more transparency there.

Ok, well time for an abrupt end to this posting. Hot tub time. 🙂

Omfg, my skin is breaking out like crazy, and I am flipping out. Yes, my friends try to be nice and say that “it isn’t so bad,” but holy fuck, I look goddamn disfigured! Ugh. And in the last two weeks, I’ve woken up every morning telling myself that I cannot leave the damn house looking like this. I ultimately do but it’s a tough fight with myself. All this fucking public exposure: Seriously, on Monday, I had my voice recital; on Tuesday, I went to a tech event (to further my “professional development”); and then tonight we had tickets to the theater.

I was thinking it was something from my diet, but I don’t know. The skin people say bumps on the chin are attributed to hormonal imbalances… but how can my hormones be imbalanced when they are chemically controlled with BCP?? I swear to god, I will give up sugar, starch, iodide, whatever it takes. That is how desperate I feel. I mean, at the point where I don’t want to leave the house? It brings back horrible memories from the past, and I will undergo lent or whatever if it gives me clear skin. Fucking a. But John is telling me he doesn’t think it’s food related. That could very well be true too.

I’ve been stressing out lately. First, my contract developer went MIA in April. The application he developed broke meanwhile, and now I’m fucking SOL. I’m going to Plan B now, but still it’s been really stressful trying to figure out where the hell he’d gone, what happened, whether there was any chance he was returning. It’s a long story, but let’s just say I got the police involved. The latest news on him is that he is with family on the East Coast– some family emergency. Mind you, not a fucking word from him via phone, email, or anything. Part of me is pissed, but then I try to let go: who knows how any of us would react when shit really goes down with family. I am trying to be patient and understanding. Still from a work perspective, this has been a hard lesson for me.

Then there’s my friend who keeps flipping back and forth between staying and leaving her husband. She’s one of my best friends, so I really took the breakup to heart, and in fact, I started projecting their circumstance onto my own. I suppose in the end, it boils down to whether you really believe one person can make you happy all the time. My position? If I spend a lifetime trying (unsuccessfully) to make myself happy, how can I expect that someone else can succeed? I do believe perfection exists– but it’s only out there for a handful of people. For the rest of us, there are good times and there are bad times– just like life itself. Anyway, she pointed me to an interesting article, “Are you stuck in a semi-happy marriage?” More food for thought. Interestingly, in my recent discussions with her, I’ve learned of many years of resentment, and areas where actions and words cannot be forgiven. I must admit that I am not always careful of my words– for me, it’s more important to express the true feeling rather than to filter or tweak it diplomatically. Certainly, there’s a fine line but if I’ve learned anything for my own relationship, speaking the issue at least minimizes accumulation of contempt. I’ve encouraged my friend to speak the truth, to tell him why she cannot go back to him… it’s only fair that he learn the reasons, and I hope that learning them will help him move forward. A part of me feels like she is demanding too much from him while not exactly demanding the same of herself. She doesn’t feel like he truly tried on issues/areas that were important to her. She says he was lazy– he’d let himself go. But she never empowered herself to learn their finances… should that be considered laziness too? Regardless, I suppose the lesson is that now she understands empowerment is critical for self-sufficiency and independence. And at the same time, I hope he realizes how much she’s given already to work things out.

And this is a reminder to myself to fight complacency. I’m signing up for a bunch of new activities to get back into exercising, hobbies, professional development, networking… because you never really know how life can change. I need to be ready for anything. Maybe my shitty skin is telling me to go on the fruit flush again…

I had an early birthday party last Friday. Luckily, I also had that day off from work, so John and I had the entire day to prepare. It was a relatively small party– only 11 people or so– but it’s still always a full day’s thing, especially because Bubs likes to make everything from scratch. The star item on his menu was burnt ends bbq beef. He got a new smoker, and we started cooking eight pounds of meat at 10 a.m. Of course, his work didn’t end there: he also insisted on making the homemade BBQ sauce plus all the meal accompaniments: guac, two salsas, asparagus salad, azteca salad (quinoa, jicama, mango ginger dressing), baked beans with bacon, corn on the cob… and people complemented with beverages, potato salad, corn bread, and gourmet ice cream (brown butter and salt/pepper!). Yup, it was a total feast.

The group dynamics also seemed to mesh pretty well– lots of people from my former workplace plus my current workplace plus oldies like G&J. By now, I think they’ve all seen the others enough times to pick up where they had last left off.

We did lots of activities too: J&J got me a red bull piñata stuffed with candy and hotel toiletries (totally up my alley); we did some karaoke (old school 80s); and then we finished the night with G&J schooling us on hip hop dance moves on the Xbox Kinect. All in all, I was really happy with how everything turned out. Even though I do relish all the soiree details, above all, I just felt happy to be amongst friends. And Bubbey really made me feel loved. Oftentimes, I feel like we struggle with expressing love (we have different primary love languages), but with the party and all the preparations involved, I appreciated his multiple acts of service. He really paid attention to the details– from cooking dishes that I love to chilling my favorite sweet Riesling, to getting my favorite cake. It was so very sweet, and I felt truly happy that night.

The rest of the weekend finished up well. Saturday rained all day, and we just slept in (that party wiped us out big time), but in the evening, we went to Red Rock Coffee House to catch some live music. I felt like we were finally getting back on track. Today (Sunday), I woke up and went to yoga. Sure, I was out of shape following my one-month slump, but it still felt good, and I thought that I might just get back into it again. In the afternoon, I headed to “Book Club”– my euphemism for “Craft Club”… I just like that Book Club sounds nerdier. 🙂 Anyway, a few of us work friends made lunch and then worked on our Martha Stewart piggy banks. Last year, I had made a piggy and a water buffalo. The water buffalo got fucked up in the move, so now I’m repairing him. Ultimately, it’s just a good excuse to hang out and talk shit about work.

So tomorrow is back to the office, and I feel rested and content. I hope this is indication that my latest funk is now over. Yeah, I know, I’ll have to check back at the end of the week. 🙂 Certainly things can change day to day, but I’m going to bed tonight feeling hopeful.

These pictures kinda help with that: they make me smile. Supposedly, there is also video footage of me bludgeoning my beautiful red bull. Stay tuned: more to come.

My friend whom I mentioned in the last posting, pointed me to an interesting talk about personality types. Obviously, I’ve been obsessed recently with two things: personality tests and relationship compatibility studies. When I took this test, it spit out a disappointing answer: Director-Builder. Why was I disappointed? Because the Director is supposed to be a real power player. The director gets shit done, takes care of business, manages people, is successful. Sure, I get things done on a small scale, but I don’t feel like I’m the successful, kickbutt power player. Maybe I spent too much time in the last decade diluting my natural inclinations. Why? Because I was trying to be more compromising, more accommodating. And in the process of trying to become a better person for people I love, I lost that edge that maybe would have resulted in me truly rising to something, truly accomplishing something. And the irony is, I softened all these things about me for other people, and in the end, they still insist that I’m Type A or a director or an administrator or whatever. In the end, they don’t even acknowledge me for trying to accommodate them.

I guess other people don’t see it, but I made a conscious, dramatic shift from my true nature. People say that I’m judgmental but in my earlier years, I was REALLY judgemental– I adopted a position, and I didn’t waver. I liked to view all situations– even complex ones– in black and white. That was my tendency. As I grew older, that “style” started to feel rigid, unyielding, and overly simplistic, especially when trying to relate to others, so then I tried really hard to understand other perspectives even if I had felt an initial affinity for one. I tried to be more empathetic to others, and then, I started becoming consumed by “analysis paralysis.” Where I was once decisive, I was now indecisive. I thought life was just getting more complicated.

Maybe that was true also, but I definitely proactively tried to change who I was. I thought my life would be better and fuller if I were more compassionate, more extroverted, more flexible. I thought I would be a better person, a more supportive friend or companion. And now I realize that all these changes have caused me stress. I know, because I lose sleep worrying about finding solutions and answers for other people. I feel anxious about all the elements that are beyond my control, and I only feel (mildly) better when I start to compulsively control little things that are just me– what I eat, how I look, how I go about my daily schedule… in the chaos, I grasp desperately for ways to find black and white.

At the end of Dr. Fisher’s lengthy talk, someone asks whether people can change their type over time, and Dr. Fisher asserts that these types are rooted in biology. So while people can behave and move amongst the types, ultimately, they grow exhausted if they behave “out of type” for extended periods. In other words, denying your natural type is unsustainable long term.

My friend told me that in her marriage, she had been extremely accommodating; she had lost herself in the marriage. Dr. Fisher mentions meeting a lady who admitted not being herself the entire 15 years that she was married. She divorced. I wonder if this is how my friend now feels. Could this be my case as well? Have I acted in a manner that is unsustainable? Is that why I feel so damn tired of everything?

I keep taking these tests. Why? Because I’m a Director. I want reasons, logic, rationale for everything. I want to believe there is science behind relationships and compatibility. John insists he is a negotiator-builder, which is the “right” match for a director-builder. I’m not so sure he is what he claims. But even if the results confirmed him, does that make me feel better? I don’t know. Why all this doubt?

I guess my friend’s decision to divorce has caused some inner turmoil for me. I wonder about all the things she says, and I wonder if they apply to me. I am questioning the longevity of relationships. I am questioning what it means to stay true to myself. For example, I don’t like things to drag on. I don’t like procrastination of anything– chores, tasks, life questions. I seek resolutions with extreme urgency.

Our marriage has become strained the last few years. There are good periods and bad periods, but overall I suppose things have been inconsistent and very touch and go. That has worn on me, and now, as I watch my friend walk away from her uncertainty, I wonder if I should do the same. The director values decisiveness and solutions. The builder values trust and loyalty.

John has really stepped up his game in the last month since our meltdown at the end of April. But I haven’t been feeling well. I feel tapped out, unmotivated. I’m trying to get my groove back. I’m trying to self motivate. And I keep taking these tests… I’m searching for resolution somewhere.

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about relationships. What is love? How do people express it? When there is disconnect, is it due to lack of love or simply lack of capacity? Fidelity, as you know, has always intrigued me, because it’s this violation of trust, a breach of honesty… these acts aren’t committed by strangers: they are committed by people for whom there is utmost faith and confidence. Have you ever been betrayed on a level so deep that it changes how you view the world? Even if the doubt and uncertainty influence your relationships for only a few years, the innocence and naivety are gone forever.

My friend is filing for divorce, because trust has been broken, not by infidelity but by substance abuse. Words expressing apology and contrition, no matter how sincere now, are only words that didn’t align with the actions.

I read a disturbing article yesterday about Political Sham Marriages. Basically, the author refuses to sympathize with educated women married to men who are either alleged or confirmed cheaters. The accusation is that these wives tolerate the infidelity in exchange for their own power and political gain. The article irks me on so many levels. First, love is a complicated thing. It really is. Regardless of socio-economic or political status, love isn’t simply about “I love you and you love me.” And who the fuck is she to question whether Shriver’s love is true or not. Sure, adultery seems like a pretty difficult action to place under the love column, but hell, does she know the stats on infidelity? The percentages are pretty fucking high, inside or outside of politics, so is she saying then that most people in marriages and relationships in fact do NOT love each other?

That’s why I’m asking: what is love? This notion of forever, of unyielding loyalty… who are we fooling? Do you know people who have cheated? been cheated on? It’s a depressing state of affairs, no pun intended. What I’m saying is, why should we withhold empathy for Maria Shriver? Because she should have known better? Honestly, if that were the case, everyone should know better and no one should be in a relationship at all. Because, just point to the numbers. Odds are, you’re going to screw or get screwed.

Forgiveness can happen. Change can happen. I like that saying, “Dance like no one’s watching, sing like no one’s listening, and love like you’ve never been hurt before.” or however that saying goes… But that’s where individual capacity comes into play. After feeling pain and betrayal, do you have the capacity to live again with the same vigor? And if you have the capacity, do you have the will to risk it all again?

My friend is leaving. She has neither the will nor capacity to risk it all again. And so that’s where things end… when one person is done punching the timecard. I suppose the triggers that push you to that threshold vary. There are no right answers, and life has a funny way of circling from one end to another beginning. Still, it’s hard to watch the end of something I once witnessed as true and loving. All these paths in life– they seem so dramatically different and yet their beginnings– all started at a single trailhead.

Last week, John and I hit another breaking point. Ironically, the fight started the night of our 8th wedding anniversary. He said he was thinking about going back to work… Since all his contacts work at start-ups, those are the only options he is currently considering. Given his history with start-ups, I immediately expressed my reservations about those very limited options. What he needed (and yes, that’s how I said it), was a comprehensive search that involved combing the job ads, researching companies, and making new professional contacts. He argued that introverts don’t hunt for jobs that way, and that was that: within a few short minutes, the conversation had turned sour. I pulled out my laptop and started hunting for my own options… when other things are beyond my control, I can only refocus on myself. He, on the other hand, went to watch tv, and that’s how our special day ended.

The next morning, I was furious that voicing my concerns resulted in a curt and pissy conversation followed by the cold shoulder. I made a medical appointment to deal with my breakouts again (hmm, stress maybe?), and during the long drive, I thought long and hard about how I was no longer able to communicate my thoughts to him. I thought about how, after five years, I still hadn’t determined the “proper” way to support a depressed person. I thought of another day of work– totally shot due to my preoccupation with our sometimes strained relationship. Was our eight years of marriage something to celebrate, or was it simply a symbol of stubbornness? Were we just dragging out something that had lost its magic?

The last time I had visited the therapist, it was following another blow-up. My takeaway from that session? She said that by my efforts trying to be patient and trying to respect that he was not Type A, had in fact “made room for the depression to grow.” In suppressing my own needs and denying my own voice, I had practically grabbed depression a seat at the table. But what are my needs exactly? I didn’t even know I had needs.. I just wanted him to be happy– however way he wanted to get there, on whatever timeline.

But no, now I was being told that I was an enabler. So last week, after replaying all of this through my mind, I decided that hard-ass needed to make a comeback. I wasn’t going to live like this anymore. Whatever the problem, figure it out. See someone every fucking day if you have to. I have waited 9 months and now 4 months, and we are still dealing with this bullshit. I am not going to censor myself anymore. Get help, because handling your shit on your own isn’t working.

I suppose my anger got the better of me that day, because the message delivery was angry and swift and blunt. Consequently, the response was a blow-up of tremendous magnitude. And just like that, the rest of the day was shot.

Thankfully, a few hours later, things calmed and we returned to the drawing board. Who knew so many damn shrinks would either be “no longer accepting new patients” or fully booked a month and a half out. FML, right? Back to the waiting game. Fucking A.

Of course, prior to the blowup, we had planned a weekend getaway in Colorado to celebrate our anniversary. The significance? We had gone to Boulder about 11 years ago, when life was grand(er). We really loved the mountains. Now the trip just felt like bad timing.

Luckily, we made the most of it and the trip ended up being a nice little break/escape: a bit of hiking, lots of good food, some city walking, plenty of hot tubbing, and many hours of sleep in a comfy bed. We had fun.

There are still many moments when I obsess over what to do, how to be, how to help, how to self-preserve… My natural inclination is to be impatient and to search endlessly for SOMEthing. It’s like when I have a scab, I never let it be– I always pick and scratch until it bleeds. I’m trying to learn to let things be, to not insist on answers… but it’s hard, because I believe so strongly in living with intention and purpose.

It seems like there must be a way of living, of coexisting happily and peacefully in the presence of depression. But I feel a deep inner pain wondering how long and how hard to reach for this notion– is it even realistic and attainable?

I think I’m a romantic at heart– I believe strongly in the power of love. I believe it conquers many things. Still, even I’ll admit that love isn’t always enough, and love doesn’t always have a happy ending (You’ve seen The Breakup!). Ultimately, we’re responsible for our own lives and our own choices.