Eight

Each year at this time I check in. Plotting the course of how Peter and I are going. Seeing where this crazy marriage adventure is taking us.  A lot has happened in the last 12 months.

Not long after our last anniversary Peter's Mum died.  We got a phone call at 3.30am and we just knew what it meant. Peter was on a train to regional Victoria and his Dad later that morning, while I sorted out time off work. The long drive, after a sleepless night was a struggle. But all I was focused on was seeing him again and giving him a hug and trying to help him through this.  Knowing he was upset and so far away was quite excruciating. After the wobble that was the previous 12 months, this moment had us cemented back.  Knowing how much we meant to each other.  We gripped each other's hand tighter.

Much of the time that followed was marking lots of firsts. That awful first year as you pass dates, like Christmas and birthdays, with a family member missing. Weird things can trigger the feeling of loss, randomly at any time. But Peter has done an amazing job of steadying himself and trying to make sure his Dad is ok, knowing how much the loss knocked him.  Through all this Peter went to work, juggled twice weekly psych clinic appointments and put one foot in front of the other. It seems our existence is based on a day, or a week at a time.  Getting through to friday can feel like a fucking achievement. And shouldn't be underestimated.

Work continued to be busy, not leaving me with a lot of brain space for much else. It helps that life for us is reduced to simple and happy routines. Coffee and shopping locally. With occasional jaunts to see bands, exhibitions or theatre.  Nothing too adventurous. Simple. Comfortable. Known routines. While Peter has withdrawn a little (social anxiety will do that to you), he's pushed me to catch up with friends, to ensure I don't become socially isolated.

I've worked on projects and been pushed a little outside my comfort zone this year. We're awaiting change in our workplace, and we aren't quite sure what this will bring.  Challenges? Difficulty? Newness? Something better? It's all a bit of a mystery at the moment. But I've learnt over the years not to panic until there's actually something to panic about.  That's maybe the one and only blessing of stressful times. A capacity to put things in perspective. And the projects and immanent change (and talking to friends) made me consider going back to study.

On telling Peter what I was thinking he smiled. 'I knew you would'. He has always encouraged me. Told me I can do anything. And I forget, in the midst of my own self doubt, what it's like to have someone believe in you. This feels like what the last 12 months has been all about. Encouraging each other, holding each other's hand and pushing each other forward ever so slowly and gently. A day at a time we inch forward, but in a new direction. Changes for both of us. Good changes, hopefully.

But it can be hard.  Life is never linear. Straight forward. There's also steps backwards or treading water. There are some days that just seem so damn hard. Even though we wanted to mark the occasion of our anniversary, this week has been a doozy. Hellish dealings with our body corporate, stress at work, tears and tension headaches. Throw in a couple of days of  Peter feeling overwhelmed and shutting down emotionally...it's not been the type of anniversary either of us would have wished for. In fact parts of this week were really awful.

But that really is just how it is sometimes. It's not all sunshine and kittens, alas. Sometimes milestones are acknowledged quietly rather than celebrated loudly. Sometimes it's simply enough to make it through the week in one piece. Sometimes you just yearn to look into each other's eyes and feel the comfort of a hug. Consoled by being enveloped in an embrace. Tomorrow is another day. Another chance to take a step forward. Even if it's a small one. This is where we find ourselves at eight years.






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