Thanks, Wildflowers - interesting links.
Admission: My first response was, "Well, if I need something labeled 'therapy' to deal with it, then why am I putting myself in this situation in the first place?"
Then I went off and researched kitchens for my 1930s house for a while and forgot about it. Came back to it later, while shoveling.
What good does the anger and blame do me? None. So why the anger? What does my brain think it's going to do?
I suppose anger can spur us on to change a bad situation, or to right a wrong.
In these moments, I feel that things are unjust somehow. That I'm on the losing end, and my anger is righteous anger somehow - I deserve better. I deserve more.
And the voice of my friends who ostracized P from their lives, who said the EXACT SAME THING, comes to mind, and I stopped.
Nope. Nothing unjust here. My own choices.
Why did I buy a house, rather than get a condo where someone would maintain it for me? Other than wanting my own property, and not a condo?
It was a HUGE symbol of my independence. Sometimes, I find that independence difficult, but I can't have it both ways. If I'd rented, or gotten a condo, or even a different house, I may not have some of these issues. My choice. My independence, the good and the bad.
My choice to be P's partner. I knew he was Poly. Didn't quite grok it all at the time, but still. And I continue to make that choice (to stay), because when we're together, it's wonderful.
Again. My choice. I made it. Who's there to be mad at?
So I shoveled.
Well, pushed the snow around. It's bitterly cold, so the snow really doesn't weigh much. And that was that. No negativity, other than cussing those little humps in the driveway that catch the shovel every single time. Puuuuush*CLUNK* Damn.
So, it'll be interesting to try this out (and see if I can get it to work, and stick).
Anyway, just got back inside about 20 min. ago, and now it's snowing like mad. Parked in front of the woodstove with a chai (which is too hot for my chilled throat) and I'm not shoveling again until tomorrow morning. Done.
And I think Patches is on the hunt for another mouse. Hopefully, the one she lost a week and a half ago.
Maybe I'll go research some more 1930s bungalow kitchen colors and materials. It won't be a 2014 project, but maybe 2015, fingers crossed.