I realized yesterday that I have some mental hangups about leaving the house and doing things, even though I now have a car and free time, still. So this morning I decided I’d head to a reservoir with a swimming beach, but when I pulled up the information it turned out they’d altered their hours to weekends only as of August 1st. I had trouble pulling myself together and thinking of a new plan for how to get of the house, finally settling on checking out shoe stores, as most of my footwear is getting worn.
I didn’t manage to actually get out of the house until 11:30. Shopping didn’t go well – I couldn’t find anything on clearance in my size and balked at the full price tags. In order to give myself another shot at not feeling like I’d left the house pointlessly, I ended up stopping at Goodwill and checking the men’s section, where I found two flannel shirts to replace the two I used in IL that are disintegrating now. They were given to me and much too large for me anyway, and the ones I found fit well and were much nicer colors for me.
Flannel shirts have been a favorite of mine for years. Growing up in Nebraska, I saw my dad and my grandfather wear flannel shirts, and wanted to wear them, too. It amuses me to think I was accidentally gravitating towards fashion that would become trendy for a time (grunge) as well as being associated with queer women, especially with how the latter would turn out to be personally appropriate.
I felt a little mollified by my purchase, but still grumpy by the time I got home, which seemed to reach out and stain the entire day. I didn’t get anything accomplished or feel productive in any meaningful way. I didn’t even get out for a walk today. I think this is just a normal bad day like anyone would get, but I’m worried a bad mental health day is ahead, because my husband is displaying emotional tells that he’s having a rough time again, and that almost always means he’ll be spilling his emotions over me.
He was clingy last night, and asked the sort of questions whose answers couldn’t give him any sort of happiness, and seemed a little down this morning before work. When he came home, he immediately took a nap. He had planned to attend a meeting of local democrats tonight, and when I asked if he’d be leaving soon his response was grumpy, and when he did leave, he had the aura of someone heading off to their own execution.
I’ve seen these emotional tells long enough to know it puts me in the danger zone of another long, frustrating, emotional conversation where he tries to find some sense of stability and control and hope for what he wants, while exhausting me in the process.
I’m not able to give him what he wants, and he’s not able to stop wanting it, and there’s no distance between us to help with that scenario.