Better, but not so much

It has been a long time since I've posted! I've been keeping tabs on myself, keeping tabs on my issues, and I have to say I am doing MUCH better. I've started at the gym again, work is fantastic, life is great....except of course for the Boy. He's out of work, for the third time in less than a year, he's trying to find work, but not trying hard enough. I am so sick of bearing the financial burden of this family, so sick of all of my success going down the toilet because I have to care for him. When we moved a year ago, I told him we HAD to split things 50/50, or else. Here we are a year later, and I'm bearing more of the burden than I ever have. I don't think this is the way things are supposed to be. I think a lot of my problems and issues stem from frustration, er, buried frustration over this ongoing problem. I know I should have laid down the law way back in the day when we first moved in together, I shouldn't have been so lenient, so accommodating--but I was, because I was young, naive, and in love. And now it's snowballed into a huge problem that we can't really discuss, because I've tried--he says he'll work on it, and never does.

The Monkey on my Back

I'm writing this here mainly because I don't want anyone I really know to see, and also because I'm too scared to admit it for real.

I have a serious problem with alcohol.

Not the needing-to-drink-a-pint-of-vodka-first-thing-in-the morning-to-get-through kind of a problem, but a I-can't-control-the-amount-of-booze-I-consume-and-I-can't-stop-behaving-badly kind of a problem.

I drink every day. Not a great deal, at least by my standards, but more than most. It's usually four or five beers a weeknight, several more, plus cocktails, on the weekend. When Liam and I are out together, just us, it's usually OK -- we will have fun, then go home and go to bed. When other people are introduced, or I'm out alone, that's where the problems begin.

Sometimes I feel like a sexual predator. Other times, I feel like prey.

I met up with some old friends of mine for a couple cocktails earlier this week. It ended up with me in a VERY compromising situation with someone I NEVER EVER should have ended up in a compromising situation with. Not to mention the fact that I have a FIANCE.

A few days later, Liam and I went to a party, at which I ended up in ANOTHER compromising situation.

I feel disgusting, like a whore, and worst of all I feel like if I keep doing these sorts of things that I am going to lose Liam and my whole world is going to fall apart.

And it's ALL BECAUSE OF ALCOHOL. Sober, I am a responsible, respectful, nice, caring, kind, hardworking person. I feel lonely sometimes, sure, but don't we all? I have relationship issues, but nothing earth-shattering. I don't know why I drink so much. I don't know why I can't control myself. All I know is that I want to stop and I don't know where to turn to for help. My father was a borderline alcoholic, or maybe he was a full-on one, I don't know. All I know is that in his mid-40s he gave it up, cold turkey, for fear of hurting our family. I have always loved my father, truly and deeply -- and while I remember the hard times during his drinking days, I never viewed him in a negative way, not one day, not once ever. I have heard that alcoholism is genetic....but I still wonder if bingeing every now and then makes me one, or just makes me a person with a drinking problem. Or maybe I'm just overreacting and romanticizing. I don't know. All I know is that I don't like the me I am when I am drinking. She is reckless and stupid, makes bad decisions and breaks hearts. I want her to go away.

more menstrual woes

And I forgot to mention the self image issues. I feel so horribly ugly during that time. It doesn't help that I just got back from a 15o mile bike ride that I felt fantastic about -- but then I saw the pictures and all I saw of me was an ugly mess with misaligned teeth and a beer gut. My boyfriend, bless his soul, insists I'm OK...but he didn't help by telling me how attractive he finds lesbians. WTF???????

I'm hoping this will soon pass.

Let me just tell you something. I HATE HAVING MY FREAKING PERIOD. I know this is neither an original nor unique thought, but holy good god damn!!! I have been in a horrifyingly bad funk for the past 2 weeks...culminating with extreme anger over the weekend, and last night, I got to have...dun dun dun...INSOMNIA!!! Oh the joys and the fun! Oh the excitement and the F&#CKing aaaaaaaaaaaaaagony! Last night I went to bed at normal time -- around 10, 10:30. Woke up at midnight to find Liam STILL on the computer (my laptop) with the living room lights burning brightly and if I'm not mistaken, the TV still on. So now I'm awake. He comes to bed AFTER taking a shower. It was HOT and MUGGY as hell last night, my sheets REALLY need to be changed and I do not have air conditioning. Good ol hot and sweaty and freshly hot-showered Liam comes to bed, and ups the temperature by about a thousand degrees. After about 10 minutes I leapt up, yelling "F&CK THIS" and went to the couch, IN TEARS (thanks, menstruation!!! Love ya for that one!). Liam comes out and asks me what's wrong.

Now, dear Constances, at this moment I could have let loose all of the problems my pre-menstrual mind was stirring up --- his share of the bills, his lack of desire to keep the house clean, his constant nitpicking, etc etc etc. BUT I knew that if I did, i would never ever get back to sleep, and we'd end up in a nasty fight.

I did eventually go back to bed, and it was cooler in the bedroom, but Liam had the entire blanket wrapped around his sweaty self, and when I pulled off a corner, it was damp.

Sooooooooooooooooooooooooo needless to say, I'm gonna be a bit GRUMPY today.... lack of sleep is crap. I hate hot muggy nights, really I do.

Oh, little pink apartment, how do I love thee? I so wish I could spill ALL of the secrets I have here, but, alas, I fear the guts I have to spill are a tad too revealing. I would pass judgment on me reading what I have to say.

So I won't say it. Sorry, ladies. Maybe in time.

Things have been going very well with Liam lately...he's been happy and kind--save for one argument which resulted in this Constance yelling "DO YOUR OWN F&@*KING LAUNDRY". I was in a terrifically terrible mood that night, but bad as it was, I'm proud of myself. Ya see, as nice and kind and caring as Liam is, he also is a tad controlling and also hypercritical. Normally when we argue I'll admit defeat (even though I know I'm right) to quell the situation. This time, I didn't. It confused the heck out of him, and he was sweet as pie (almost to the border of sucking up) for the next few days afterwards. Mission accomplished! Meanwhile, his un-folded laundry is STILL sitting in a basket--I am taking a stand and refusing to do it for him, to see how long he will go until putting it away. My bet is...well...never.

I spent a glorious 5-day vacation about 1000 miles away from home. Left Liam at home and had fun fun fun while I was away visiting my BFFs. I felt amazing when I got back...after the vacation hangover wore off.

Then, Liam and I spent about a day in the woods, visiting family and having a good old time. I think both of us needed it.

I'm still irritated about clean-house issues...it seems like all I ever do is run around the house picking stuff up, dusting, doing dishes, vacuuming--and if I slack off for one day, it looks like a category-5 hurricane swept through the place.

Well, that was enlightening, huh? I should have some more, um, juicy stuff for y'all later.

It seems like all i do here is bitch and moan...but that's what little pink apartments are for, right?
My man is really great--nice, fun, silly, loving, but GOOD GOD DAMN he is a pain in my ass sometimes, especially when it comes to money. So we both pay the rent together, right, but it comes out of my bank account. He informs me last week that he wouldn't be able to put in his portion until Tuesday (2 days after rent is due). I say OK, because the check never clears until the 4th.

Guess what happened.

The rent check miraculously clears my account on Monday. He puts the money in on Tuesday. I get slapped with a $40 overdraft fee. I ask him to pay it and he says "are you blaming me for your overdraft?"

Seriously, people...am I missing something here? If it was me who caused his account to be overdrawn, I would be wracked with guilt and offer to pay him the overdraft fee and then some.

My solution: We open a joint account, to be used only for shared expenses. If it is overdrawn, it is our problem, not my problem.

Constances -- is it just me or are all men absolute idiots when it comes to money? Like, they are broke when you are out of toilet paper/toothpaste/soap/etc but when they see a new toy they like somehow they always find the money to buy it?

I am totally PMSing this week..any time I PMS my money worries/anger with my man about said money issues are increased tenfold, it annoys the crap out of me but he really needs to stop.

Dude, you are in for it

So, when you told me your friend had an extra ticket for Monday's Red Sox game and he wanted you to go, I said OK. I was very happy that you were concerned that I wasn't getting to go, and even happier when you said you almost didn't accept because you'd rather go with me.

Go, have fun! Seriously. I am not going to keep you from having a good time, simply because I can't go along too.

Have some beers at the game, heck, have some after, too -- totally fine with me. Public transport in this city is great.

BUT. WHEN you call me after midnight and WAKE ME UP to come and get you (three miles away) because you've missed the last bus-- DO NOT tell me in the car that I have "no right" to be upset. DO NOT get mad when I refuse to give you the driver's seat (as if--you've been drinking!!!) and under no circumstances DO NOT make me feel bad for being upset that I've been woken up from sleep to have to get dressed and come pick you up.

Seriously.