Safe spaces

I had an enormous revelation last week. Needless to say, it was preceded by some fairly maladaptive behavior, but if I'm paying attention, I learn from my idiotic mistakes.

For a long time, I thought that the reason I didn't do certain things was because I was being lazy. It's not that I didn't want to go to the market after work to get a nice, healthy dinner - I just didn't go - I didn't feel like it. Then I'd go home and binge. I'd put off or avoid other situations too.

What I've learned this week is - often it's because I don't feel safe.

Usually not unsafe like, "I might be attacked in the parking lot." although sometimes that may be the reason. Usually it's a feeling of not having the energy to put up the big wall around me that says

"Motherfucker - stay the fuck away from me."

without ever uttering a sound. It's a skill but sometimes I'm too depleted and I can't make myself face the bad guys.

I've had a few bad guys in my life.

Strangers, acquaintances and family members have been bad guys and it gets kind of hard to trust people, which is why I leave my bed every morning with an enormous shield around me.

The big bright spot in my world is my husband. Sometimes he's clueless. Sometimes I'm just not giving him any clues to go on - but he's done a pretty good job of making my world a safer place to live in.

At Passover this year I was telling my family about the house and all of the work I've been doing around the garden. Someone asked, "Well, what does Michael do?" I told them, "He pays for everything!" It shut everyone the hell up (and is a lot easier to understand than he makes me feel safe). Whether he pays for everything or not, he makes me feel like home is a good place to come to.

• I don't feel like my mistakes are going to be thrown back at me.
• I don't feel like I'm going to have to justify my existence.
• I'm not afraid that he's going to be unpredictable when he gets home.

Safety is such a huge thing for me. I'm not sure if the whole concept makes much sense to others - it didn't make a whole lot of sense to me before I started therapy. I know now that I have never felt safer in my life.

It's damn near blissful.

It wasn't always like this. Jeff died 7 months before we got married. I wasn't sure of anything except that I was there to support Michael. About two years later, after moving my grandmother into assisted living, starting a business, and leaving my job, Michael and I started to realize something was not right on Planet Faith.

I went through some very scary stuff, most of which involved me feeling like the world was slipping out from under me. I think one of the things that got me through was the night Michael showed up in my room and said, "I'm not going anywhere." Basically, he informed me that I would have to leave if we were going to split up. It was the beginning of finally feeling like I had terra firma.

At the time, I didn't know that I needed him to say that, but I believed him there and then, and I have never doubted it a moment since.

My husband may go play in Chicago and Palm Springs and Calgary (shout out to the Canadians!) and then he comes home. I may have friends in New York and Palm Springs and from one end of Los Angeles County to the other, but there is something that Michael provides that I don't get from them.

He's far from perfect (and I'm no June Cleaver) but we've got this relationship thing down pat.

Sometimes we'll tell people about our relationship and they'll say, "Oh, but you're not really married."

I just have to look at Michael - it doesn't matter what other people think about how "really married" we are or are not - we know.