Tuesday, August 26, 2014

Overwhelmed with shit...


Good to know...

I had a little fight with Bill last night.  Actually, it was a moderate fight.  Fights a very rare thing for us, so for what would be a minor fight between some couples is a much bigger one for us.  We just very rarely argue or have conflicts because neither of us enjoys it much and we have little to argue over.  But there was a tiff last night.

I was feeling irritated with Bill because I felt like some of the things I was communicating to him were going through one ear and out the other.  For instance, he needed to set up a local bank account so he can pay our new landlords.  I told him I'd heard it was better to set one up in the local economy.  He basically said that was "nice" and set one up on the installation.  When I pointed out that the rates are better off post according to anecdotal evidence, he told me he didn't have time to go to a German bank.  I understand that... so I told him that I'm not going to offer more suggestions.

Then one of the people who was supposed to come see this apartment on Sunday had an appointment yesterday for 5:30.  I hadn't really wanted to have to deal with them and it turned out I didn't, since they cancelled less than two hours before they were supposed to be here.  I was irritated about that, since I've about had my fill of dealing with people looking for housing and just want to be left in peace.  I had told Bill about that too, but he pretty much ignored me and set up the appointment anyway, which was then cancelled.

I got an email from my overachieving sister, who is with my mom as she prepares for breast cancer surgery.  I guess I should be happy that she is so eager and able to deal with our mom (and previously our dad) as she starts dealing with serious health problems.  At the same time, our mother is my mom too...  And sometimes, it seems like my eldest sister is the "golden child" and the rest of us are ladies in waiting or something.  It kind of makes me a little sad that my eldest sister is automatically the "go to" child when there's a problem.  She's the oldest and probably the most accomplished of all of us... and she can certainly handle everything.  But then, after she's voluntarily taken on all this stuff, we get guilt emails from another sister who complains that she's doing too much and we should all "pitch in".  This isn't making sense right now, but I haven't yet had enough of this shitty weak coffee and my brain is fogged.  Anyway, I guess you could say I feel disconnected and disenfranchised from my family.  As usual, they kind of treat me like the unwanted baby.

Bill made dinner, but he basically made some crap that came from the tiny local German supermarket-- minute steaks, which were akin to shoe leather, and greasy potato pancake things, along with some not so fresh asparagus.  It wasn't a bad meal, per se-- but it wasn't a particularly good meal, either.  And I'm just ready to be in my own place with familiar food and my own bed.  I'm tired of being in transit and am ready for things to settle down and be somewhat normal again.

Being in this apartment with dogs all day, not having anyone to really talk to, not being able to do the things that usually distract me from being annoyed, just caused me to reach a limit last night and I got very angry.  Bill tried to argue with me, but I told him to leave me alone.  Then I took a walk by myself for about half an hour or so, which helped me clear my head.  It was really liberating to walk outside alone without the dogs or even Bill and burn off some steam.  I was still pissed off when I came back inside, though, and we had a very quiet night while Bill studied and I felt more and more hostile and upset, not so much with him, but with the fact that I let my life get so far out of my control.

I was planning to sleep on the floor in the living room area, such as it is, because I was pissed off and didn't want to be crowded into the too small queen sized bed (with two medium dogs that move around a lot, it does get crowded).  I got up to take out my contact lenses and brush my teeth and slammed the bathroom door pretty hard.  When I came out, Bill was standing there in what I call a "thug" pose.  His arms were folded and he looked stern.  He tried to grab my shoulders, which made me warn him not to touch me.  That was what my dad used to do when we fought.  He'd grab me, shake me, and sometimes hit me.  I have no tolerance for that anymore, although I know Bill would never lay a finger on me in a violent way.

But then we sat down and talked.  He was under the impression that I was mad at him.  I explained that I wasn't so much mad at him as I was overwhelmed and stir crazy.  I know a lot of people have endured more than I have this summer and a lot of my problems are "first world problems".  And I will probably feel better when we have our cars, our home, our stuff, and I'm not constantly worried about my dogs upsetting other people (not that that will completely go away after we move into our home).

It's just that moving to an international location is very stressful and we had a stressful move prior to coming here.  I'm limited as to what I can accomplish right now and that frustrates me.  I'm worried about my mother and still having a hard time believing my dad is gone.  I'm worried about our finances, the dogs' health, and my own health.  I'm 42 years old and sometimes feel like I'm a child in a middle-aged body.  And even though that's my complaint, I was still thinking of all the childish things I'd like to do, like hop on a plane back to the United States.  But once I got back to the States, then what?  Especially since I don't really like the United States that much.  Walking around the neighborhood, I was reminded of how beautiful Germany is and how much it suits me, even if I don't yet speak the language.

Anyway, I'm happy to report that Bill and I made up.  I quipped that we don't fight very often and I feel entitled to fight once every ten years or so, which made him laugh.  He just wants me to be happy and hates to see me get angry.  Zane hates it when I'm angry, too.  When our voices rose last night, he had to come out, get between us, and whine.  He's very sensitive and worries a lot.  That's one very special characteristic of our dog.  Arran, on the other hand, couldn't care less when we argue.    

Just a few more days... and then we can move into bigger digs with no furniture.

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