As I sit here contemplating the word itself I accept that I suffer at the hands of the green eyed monster a fair bit more than is really necessary. One of the most irritating aspects of this bloody condition I have to endure is that emotional activation (insert any) happens to the Nth degree; often without justification too.
Can you imagine all the minute things in a day that could irk you; all the things that you would normally bush off and never think of again. Try then to imagine that you cant brush these things off; that each and every one of those tiny, irksome things stays with you. Sometimes for a few hours, sometimes for a few days; but they linger far longer than any normal person could tolerate.
Jealousy is a hard one to bare because it breeds many other emotions and emotional responses. Jealousy isn’t rational, its bread out of paranoia and greed, and once let out of the bottle it is very hard to put away again.
Jealousy, for me, looks like being angry that I’m left on my own and crying for an hour when my fella leaves for work; jealous of the time he gets away from the house and family. My head goes into overdrive and creates a million different scenarios as to where he is and what he’s doing.
Is he actually going to work? Who is he talking to? Who could he be seeing? Why does he do so much overtime? Does he not want to be with me?
By the end of the day these have stopped being questions and turned into statements; He doesn’t want me, he is seeing someone else.
Ridiculous isn’t it! There is absolutely no need for it.
The rational side of me, the side that takes her nightly medications, knows full well the answers to all of those questions. I know that at any time I could call his work up and ask to speak to him, he would be there… I think!
There is no logic to the way my brain processes; no rhyme nor reason. I’m jealous of the time he gets to spend away from me, jealous of his ability to cope without me and jealous of his freedom, all without justification and when you boil it all down what is left underneath it all is fear.
I’m afraid, all of the time, and this is what breeds the jealousy and the paranoia my stupid brain forces me to endure. I’m afraid of losing him, afraid I’m not good enough, afraid he will find someone better (it wouldn’t take much, and I already know that there is someone he fancies at work.)
It all boils down to fear, and I need to get a handle on that!
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