Ahhh

A few hours peace...it's the day after Christmas...Spencer woke up cranky, so even though I love him dearly I was relieved when he went to spend some time with a buddy. It's like the ol' saying: sometimes I wake up cranky, other times I let him sleep...

After my short post yesterday, Spencer did notice that he'd hurt my feelings when he asked if he could drink -- the crying probably gave it away -- and apologized. The rest of the evening went pretty smoothly as we watched Britcoms and relaxed on the couch.

I'm not sure why I cry so easily...must be the stress. It is stressful living with Spencer, dealing with his dysfunctional family, but I must be the first to admit it's most likely a tad stressful for him to live with me. Here's where I mention my mental health issues:

There have been some bouts in my past of depression, but I'd say my main issues are generalized anxiety and obsessive-compulsive disorder. This does cause Spencer chagrin when I'm constantly checking doors, etc. and continually worrying about something or other. Usually about death. Mine, his, loved ones'.

I'm a master at worrying; think of it as mental origami: any smallish anxious thought can be kneaded, manipulated, folded, spindled, mutilated, into a masterpiece of psychological-textbook proportion. Why I don't go so far as to sprinkle my paxil and xanax on my cornflakes I don't know.

Part of the trade off of me dealing with Spencer's issues is him dealing with mine. At least so far each of our major episodes have happened opposite one another so the other was there and strong enough to support. Must be cosmic. Or is that karmic?

--Pym