You need help - he insists

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One ought to hold on to one’s heart; for if one lets it go, one soon loses control of the head too.
— Friedrich Nietzsche
 
 

“I think you need to see someone about your mental health, you’re not well.”

“I am seeing someone, I told you that.”

He has that look in his eye.

“But you aren’t better.  I can’t be expected to cope with your crazy cycles. Your moods.  How often are you seeing them? You know you are so hard to predict. So emotional. There’s always some kind of drama. It’s too much to ask me to deal with your mental illness and live my own life. I need peace.”

“Oh. I don’t have cycles. I have anxiety that I have very much under control. You know that. I’m well. I’m tired, but I’m not mentally ill. My psychologist says I’m doing fine - he thinks there’s not much more he can do for me”

“Then why are you seeing someone?”

“Because I want to stay well.”  You are trying to drive me insane and I fear you are succeeding. I look away so he doesn’t see my thoughts.

“You need to meditate. You need to look after yourself”

“I do. I meditate every morning - I’ve told you that. Do you meditate?”

“No, I don’t need to. You need to take on less.”

“Umm … you wanted me to apply for this job, remember, and I did. You knew it was going to be a huge few months.  I’m juggling it all and still have my weekends free for you.”

“I don’t mean your job, I mean you are never available after work - why are you volunteering at the local theatre? Why do you need to keep studying?”

“Because I like it and its only on the nights you’ve told me you weren’t available to catch up. Maybe we could spend more time together on the weekends?” I plead. I hear it in my voice and cringe.

“You know I have my accounts to do and I need time to start my projects - I have just started pulling apart the ute. I’m busy.”

“Okay. But you could come over after work … shower here … I have the internet … you do your accounts on your laptop don’t you? I can make you dinner, or I could come to yours? You said that you’d move back in once the boys moved out, are you ever going to?”

I should have realised I was constantly setting myself up to break – always.

Stupid.

 
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