Off facebook and on Neptune

Laura Arual knows it is for better or worse and she does not regret a single minute of it.

Laura Arual did some cleaning up, but it is still not enough.

Laura Arual is having the kind of day where she is irritated by almost everyone. Not sure why. She almost feels better now for having written that.

People are self-absorbed. Not maliciously clueless, just clueless. The situation: freezing rain for two days and several colleagues saw me miss the bus by seconds, mere seconds, after work tonight. Neither offered to drive me home. Both commiserated, but continued on to their own vehicles. Really, what would it have taken for them to perform that kindness. 5 minutes, maybe 7 out of their way. I like to think that I would. I like to think that I look for ways to perform kindnesses for people. Not because I have to, but because it is the right thing to do. This nagged at me all night. This sour encounter that colours how I see the people who I call colleagues.

Laura Arual would apologize if he would listen.

I sit at the kitchen table minutes before preparing to leave for work. Chris is already gone. Everything is quiet. The dog makes noises in his crate. The cat is on the counter doing something he is not supposed to do. It is snowing outside. This is it. Me. Him. And the anxiety and depression that chase me. I don't have to hide them. So tiring having to do that. I can just be me, and he will still love me. Not still, but because I am me. Knowing that, having that knowledge to hang on gives me a peace of mind I rarely have had.

Laura Arual watched as he read an entire year of off-Facebook. Awkward.

Laura Arual is again a happy and secure woman.

Laura Arual is in full blown panic mode. This is a familiar feeling she hasn't felt for a very long time. Every worst case scenario is spinning through her mind and she still has an hour and a half before she arrives home to either confront a scenario or be reassured that all is ok.

Laura Arual will not allow herself to be disappointed if tonight does not happen. She will not.

Laura Arual was going to write a thought provoking post until 910pm happened, and now she is just trying to figure it out.

I remember as a child feeling sad for no reason. An enormous tidal wave of despair threatening to drown me as I left the house to return to school after lunch. I remember it was grey and overcast. I was either in grade two or four. Years later the doctor told me the stomach pains were because of anxiety and depression. I argued with him. I was fine, a cheery, hopeful, optimistic person. I was too busy to be depressed. A revelation to me, a confirmation to more enlightened friends. Eight years later I realize that anxiety is the shadow that I try to outrun almost daily. And yet I usually am very confident and decisive. Especially in my professional life - colleagues that repeatedly look for confirmation drive me bonkers. My anxiety manifests mostly in my personal life. The panic attacks, hyper vigilance to small details, the inertia, the ritualized behaviour. All of it was manageable when I lived alone. No one needed to know.

Laura Arual reminds herself that at least he had intended to do something nice. Life and frozen poo got in the way.

Laura Arual needs to learn to hide her disappointment better.

Laura aural awaits a surprise from someone very wonderful.

Laura Arual knows that two years go this professional turmoil would have made her not ok.

Laura Arual received the prelude to a marriage proposal. She said that she would say yes to a premeditated proposal.

Laura Arual might have recovered from the idiocy of the weekend. She loves him for his patience, forgiveness and sense of humour.

Laura Arual either read too much or not enough Cosmopolitan magazine. She is an idiot.

Laura Arual is stupidly optimistic. What she wanted, he does not. Very glad there was no outfit planned. She is very bad at this.

In happier at home, Gretchen Rubin writes about choosing a theme word for a year. For 2013, my word is home. I have never shared a home with anyone before, and it has been a long time since Chris has had a home. The apartment was my home, the house is ours. I see that now, why when moving he seemed to fight me at everything packed, except the books, he wanted our things in our new home, not mine. In my mind I carry the image of what the house looked like for the open house in August, and I struggle to make the house look like that always, and I beat myself up when it doesn't. Part of me knows that is unrealistic, but another part of me knows that if I just keep trying, it will look like that. The two parts of me are constantly at war. I think I need to be content with two rooms, not the whole house. Because a home is more than what it looks like, it is what is inside the house. The laughter, the conversations, the contemplations. I want those things as well. I want our home to be...

Laura Arual needs him to know how much she loves him.

Laura Arual realizes that there are some hurts too big for her love to soothe and make better. He is asleep next to her and she lies awake in the dark every inch of her in pain for him. There is nothing she can do to make the situation better, but she is too worn out to go to sleep.