(no subject)
Gene and I have come to an agreement.
I am going to have to curb my attitude and watch my shit, even if my hormones are out of whack, because I'm a major bitch.
That's legitimate, peeps. I totally am. And I hate it, and I can't stop crying, and I blubber - me, blubber! And my anxiety is through the roof, and I've turned suspicious, jealous, domineering and I was sick 90 percent of the time. Now I'm down to sick 40 percent of the time, by the way.
Gene is going to have to understand that I am a clingy, blubbering ball of fleshy goo who can't, apparently, function on her own without him there AND I need constant reassurance that he's not leaving me for some chick who shows up at my house and hangs out with him in his hearse for three hours.
But we've declared that a dead subject, until the next time it comes up. We will never agree on that one subject.
So to keep me from having to be reassured that he's not leaving me for some other girl, we have also decided that I need to be more social. That means, if Gene says I've invited so and so up for the day, I put a smile on my face and sit on my ass and communicate with people.
Again, he's got a legitimate point. I have become so socially ostracized that I can't even carry on a decent conversation with my good friends. He's bored, I'm bored. He has one way of dealing with it, I have another, but we will compramise. Some suggestions that we both have:
I am always invited to hang out with him and his friends. I have to remember that.
I need to say no more often. I fail at that.
I need to bite my tongue before I speak. I am considering a tongue ring that functions as a ball gag.
Apparently, I have really bad body language which he listens to more than my words. His actions, to me, are louder than what comes out of his mouth. We both need to work on that.
We will take one day a week and go ride the bike. Garth gave us back pegs last night, which does make riding it alot easier (thankfully I only had to ride it without pegs for a half hour or so).
I will not inquire who he talks to, goes to visit, texts him, or myspaces him. That's my suggestion. That way, I won't accuse him of anything with only half knowledge.
I will not listen to what other people, Rhonda (Gene's mother) or his best friend included. Rhonda hates my guts and Garth isn't Gene.
There are probably more I'm not thinking of right now. But it's a start, I guess.
PREGNANCY IS A BITCH.
I am going to have to curb my attitude and watch my shit, even if my hormones are out of whack, because I'm a major bitch.
That's legitimate, peeps. I totally am. And I hate it, and I can't stop crying, and I blubber - me, blubber! And my anxiety is through the roof, and I've turned suspicious, jealous, domineering and I was sick 90 percent of the time. Now I'm down to sick 40 percent of the time, by the way.
Gene is going to have to understand that I am a clingy, blubbering ball of fleshy goo who can't, apparently, function on her own without him there AND I need constant reassurance that he's not leaving me for some chick who shows up at my house and hangs out with him in his hearse for three hours.
But we've declared that a dead subject, until the next time it comes up. We will never agree on that one subject.
So to keep me from having to be reassured that he's not leaving me for some other girl, we have also decided that I need to be more social. That means, if Gene says I've invited so and so up for the day, I put a smile on my face and sit on my ass and communicate with people.
Again, he's got a legitimate point. I have become so socially ostracized that I can't even carry on a decent conversation with my good friends. He's bored, I'm bored. He has one way of dealing with it, I have another, but we will compramise. Some suggestions that we both have:
I am always invited to hang out with him and his friends. I have to remember that.
I need to say no more often. I fail at that.
I need to bite my tongue before I speak. I am considering a tongue ring that functions as a ball gag.
Apparently, I have really bad body language which he listens to more than my words. His actions, to me, are louder than what comes out of his mouth. We both need to work on that.
We will take one day a week and go ride the bike. Garth gave us back pegs last night, which does make riding it alot easier (thankfully I only had to ride it without pegs for a half hour or so).
I will not inquire who he talks to, goes to visit, texts him, or myspaces him. That's my suggestion. That way, I won't accuse him of anything with only half knowledge.
I will not listen to what other people, Rhonda (Gene's mother) or his best friend included. Rhonda hates my guts and Garth isn't Gene.
There are probably more I'm not thinking of right now. But it's a start, I guess.
PREGNANCY IS A BITCH.