Blessed.

I am avoiding writing a paper, because I've already written several pages of it and I can't think anymore.

I was going to start out complaining, whining, feeling sorry for myself. I am in physical pain across my shoulders and back for some unknown reason. I currently am fighting off yet another UTI, my 3rd in the last 2 months. My parents are moving to Idaho in less than a month and I'm still pretty upset about it. I have so much to do in the next two weeks that I'm completely overwhelmed.

And yet, I'm sitting here, watching John play "Left 4 Dead" with his headphones on, headphones he specifically purchased and is paying for by doing work for his mom, so that he can do something to keep him occupied while I am doing homework that will not distract me or involve him reading articles to me from the internet. (When we are both home and I am trying to do homework, I have a very difficult time convincing him that I "really mean it this time, I need you to leave me the hell alone, please, dearest".) I'm sitting in my corner of the couch, watching John, and I can't be angry.

He is trying my patience lately, O God is he trying my patience. Sometimes I feel kind of like all the things in his head that don't connect suddenly come together to create the thought "Let's see how absolutely crazymaking I can be today for anyone who gives a shit about me!!" Today was no exception, as he managed to piss off both me and Chase in a 20 minute period, and we weren't even in the same place. I calmly brought up to him again that I see the snap anger, the sharp reactions that are overblown, the immediate reaction of frustration to anything that gets in his way that are generally precursors to an episode of severeish mania, or what I call "The Dark Days" in my private journal.

This time, he is doing something new. I talk. He listens. He reacts the same way he always does. And then he breathes. He does this tapping thing on his chest, his face, in a specific pattern that his therapist taught him. And it works. He tells me he appreciates my attentiveness, and that he doesn't realize how he is reacting. We talk again about signs that usually point to mania and he tells me he is aware of it and trying to get out of the house more and involved in more things with friends, which is a new strategy that seems to be working.

And it's working for us. We're getting better and better. We are rebounding faster than we have in previous times. The bad times are not so bleak as they were. Maybe we're both just learning better coping strategies for dealing with his mental illness. I don't know. What I do know is that, like clockwork, every deadweek and finals week, John has some kind of major breakdown. I have been waiting for it this time, and dreading the onset. We talked about it this morning, and I pointed out that I have so much to do in the next 9 days that I don't have time to deal with the usual pattern, and that he may actually have to deal with me having semi-regular freakouts until finals are done. He knows, he said. He has already made a plan, and has anticipated how to handle the next couple of weeks. John of last summer would not have anticipated the next day, much less a two week period based on past experience. John of last summer thought I was invincible and would clean up his mess and do my finals all with flying colors and a calm demeanor and make him a cobbler while I was at it.

Tonight, John made a tasty spinach salad and roasted chicken for dinner and kept reminding me to do my homework. He took the dog for a drive and finished rebuilding Chase's computer and fixed the internet repeatedly when it broke and my laptop couldn't connect. He folded and put away laundry as he was doing it, loved up the Wyatt kitty, and put away his mess when he was done with all the computer junk. He went to the store and bought me some medicine I needed. He just stopped playing his game to grab Bigby and pull whatever non-food item was being chewed out of Bigby's mouth, and then gave him a lecture on eating things that are not, in fact, food. If there is a crash on the horizon, I actually think we might be able to handle this one.

I have an abundance of love in my life right now, and for that, I am very thankful. Mammsan has been involved and has saved our butts a couple times in the last month. Richie-Poo never fails to send a message or let us know he is thinking of us. My co-workers and friends have been concerned and attentive and supportive.

I do have a tendancy to be melancholy, but where my life is concerned, right this minute, it is unneeded. I have more than enough love to go around, and then some. I have extra to spare.

I think I'm going to go spare some on my husband. He's intently keeping the world safe from zombies for me. How thoughtful. ;)