With everyone around me participating in lent, making and desperately trying to cling to resolutions; I admit to feeling a need to make some gesture to try and better myself. Perhaps, hone a skill or learn a new one. I love learning. I am addicted to puzzles. I get off on fixing problems. And I have discovered a love of reading something other than porn! 🙂 I began reading a space travel series, which was most likely meant for young adults. However, I find the story entertaining. If I’m going to read fiction, I at least want it to be fun!
I also decided to spend more time writing. To that end, I found a 30 day Journaling challenge, as well as a 52 week writing challenge. I did good the first day. I wrote about the suggested topic. Pages of emotions began to pour out of my pen. My H knew that I would be doing this, and was supportive…at first.
The second night I missed. I made it up the third night, and again pages began to come out. It made me feel lighter, free-er. H watched me the first night, not actually able to read it. I think it upset him. The next night I looked through my suggested topics again and began to write what I had hoped would be a fun subject for me to explore. However, H was acting bratty, made me feel bad for multi-tasking. But I kept going until I got my point across. He actually asked me if it was about him. No…it wasn’t. But he continued to brood, and sigh while I scratched out a quick page and a half, I tried to keep it short and sweet.
Yet, like a child being told to wait, he grew impatient, and I became frustrated. His attitude intruded on my personal space, and personal time. It irritated me that he was so put out, by me writing in my journal! Yes, I made it a faster writing, than it should have been.
I’m mad at myself for allowing his mood to color and strain my personal time. So, I’ve decided to do my writing when he isn’t around. It’s still a concession on my part, but I’d rather not deal with the drama.
So tonight, while H snores like a lumberjack, I am updating this page. Nothing scandalous having been revealed. Perhaps, next time I will be ready to address the fact that he raped me.