The Butterfly Effect

What comes up must come down.
Cause and effect.
Universal balance.
Insert another theory here, then remember that they are only that.
Theories.

Boyfriend is unhappy. He is unhappy with uni, unsure about whether to continue, unconvinced that the next five months will be enough to gain a degree which will reflect the work he has done. I don't know what to say, except that I love him just as he is. Whatever he wants to do, I fully support him in that, and will sacrifice whatever we have to so that he can be happy. Making him happy is one of the few things that makes me happy, and if something makes him sad then I want to fight it, tooth and claw, for daring to hurt him.

Sometimes I wonder why I can't love myself as much as I love him. Why can't I apply the same way of thinking to me? My counsellor says this to me - it's a bit "inner child" centered for my liking but she has a point. If I met a 10 year old girl who had been beaten up by her classmates, I would want to protect her, help her, give her a big hug and let her cry on my shoulder. Yet, I spend most of my time hurling abuse at myself as a 10 year old for not standing up and fighting. For being weak, pathetic, a loser. For lying down and taking it.

I'm trying to be a bit nicer to my "inner child". I don't like that word. I don't know how else to describe her right now, but as much as I hate to admit it, that stage of my life is still a big part of how I am now. I can't just wallpaper over the cracks and pretend it never happened. I'm also concerned that me being so low may have put extra stress onto Boyfriend, as well as his workload.

Boyfriend's concern over his degree is making me think about mine. I love my work placements, although I do find the social situation of university and also in working as part of a nursing team quite stressful. I find it hard to let anyone get too close. The more they know, the more they have to use against you.

I just spoke to my Dad. There's a nice big puddle forming on my keyboard, and I'm so angry. I hate this. I had to tell him my Nan is ill, and that I might be leaving uni for a while to go and look after her. He says I shouldn't have to deal with it, but if I don't then who else will? I can't trust anyone to look after her properly, and she can't care for herself now. I can't afford to pay for a decent residential care home, and the current property market has made it almost impossible to sell her house.

I want to bury my head in the sand, but there's a distinct lack of beaches in Dagenham, and the idea of a small child finding my corpse in their sandpit makes me cringe and giggle simultaneously. F*cking morbid, eh?