Mean Girl to the Rescue!

How'm I gonna save the world when the world ain't ready?

Wednesday, July 05, 2006

Green-eyed bitch

I have long had a struggle with jealousy. I'm not sure when it started, or why. I don't have a huge history of being cheated on by boyfriends (though it has happened occasionally, to be sure). I just have a really hyperactive imagination. In the Catholic tradition of blaming folk for sins ruminated on, but not necessarily acted on, I worry, endlessly, about the possibility of my loved one entertaining lewd thoughts about someone other than me.

I have a distinct memory of a boyfriend admitting to kissing a female coworker at an apres-work happy hour. It happened before he and I started dating, and he even went about setting the female office mate in question with a close friend. But the thought of this kiss tortured me. I wasn't sure if I desperately wished I had never been told of it, or if I would rather know every gory detail. If someone had offered me a Zapruder-style film of the event, I would've watched it until my eyes bled. I was afraid to ask for more information, and so I worried myself sick (sometimes literally) thinking about it. It didn't help matters when, after he and I broke up, he dated her for a time. It really didn't help when I found out about it after he and I went out on a tentative get-back-together date, and we had to change plans to hang out at his apartment after he pulled his car in only to discover her car parked in the lot. Coming back from that relationship cliff was pretty tough, and I never felt completely trusting around him again.

Early on in my relationship with Booby, there was a woman he knew, a stringy blonde, who seemed to crop up everywhere. She worked in the same building as he did, and would ask him to lunch. She was friends with some of the same people from his callow youth and had plenty of hilarious stories to share with him from those times. She had dated the ex of a female friend of his, and in doing so had temporarily ensnarled herself in a sort of hipster soap opera drama. Booby would go to hang out with guy friends and then I would find out later that she had been there, too. I heard her name for what felt like every day for several months. She "really, really couldn't wait to meet [me]," but when she did, she gave me a perfunctory "hello," and then snubbed me. We would go out to meet friends and suddenly boop! she would stride through the door, the only other female in the group, but no one's girlfriend. I felt left out and ill-at-ease, even though I trusted Booby more than I'd ever trusted anyone. I got pretty upset about it. I felt like history was going to repeat itself, and I would eventually run into my ex-Booby on the street and he would tell me all about how he was moving into a great, hip rowhome in an edgy neighborhood with Stringy Blonde and their two dogs with bandanas tied around their adorable, scruffy necks.

I told my future husband of this fear. We fought about it. He told me I was silly, and he didn't like the constraint I was putting on him. I think maybe a lamp got broken. But he took care not to socialize with her since it upset me so much. She moved across the country or something, and that was that.

Now I find I'm having this problem in a more theoretical way. There is no Stringy Blonde popping up at odd intervals. All of my husband's colleagues are lovely and friendly. But lately, I worry, groundlessly. I know my husband would never, ever leave me. But I worry about what would happen if he wanted to.

I'm pretty sure these feelings directly correlate to my ingestion of medication meant to suppress ovulation through the use of hormones. Because of this treatment, I've had about a month's worth of PMS, symptoms rolling together week after week like rocks down a hill, injuring anyone who gets in their path. I have not been easy to live with, but I am trying not to allow my brain to make me sick with worry over things that won't ever happen, or even be considered as a possibility.


At 5:25 PM, Anonymous Jess said...

Um, if you're on the drug I think you're on, then---I feel for you. A lot.

I've been known to be jealous, but my current relationship has been blissfully free of that particular brand of drama. That said, it sucks to feel that way. And then the hormones on top of it---eek. Try to breathe. And be easy on yourself for feeling this way.

At 5:46 PM, Blogger Mrs. Harridan said...

Yeah, I think you know the drug. Put that together with the drug that is intended to create SuperFollicles, and you've got a party! A nasty, weepy pity party.

This week I go on injectables. Please tell me they're less crazymaking.

At 6:10 PM, Blogger Arabella said...

I think this is a pretty common fear, especially in a marriage. Coupled with hormones--I sure do feel for you.

I had the same fear for a very, very long time--I still do, periodically, but it's much less intense and much less frequent. Hmmm. I haven't thought about it in a while. I think I may have gradually come to the realization that, although I don't think Ty would leave me, even if he did, I would be ok. And I think Booby's a good guy.

Did you say something about homemade brownies earlier? They sure do help those OTHER hormonal fits...

At 8:46 PM, Blogger DebbieDoesLife said...

Its a phase. And wicked awful drugs. Hang in there. It will pass.

At 9:11 AM, Blogger Fraulein N said...

Oh, man. I hope you're able to get off your meds soon, or at least find something without such horrendous side effects.

On a bright note, you at least recognize what's causing your worries. Trust me, it's a lot worse when you just think you're inexplicably losing your mind.

At 4:02 PM, Blogger Tits McGee said...

Poopy hormones. Sorry you're having to deal with all of this, my dear.

At 8:01 PM, Blogger Dan said...

About your fears about your husband leaving you, talk to a friend or a therapist. Maybe, that will help you relieve the worry from your mind.

At 8:57 PM, Anonymous Nancy said...

Sorry that the hormones are making you feel less than stellar about stuff. I'm thinking of you.

At 1:30 PM, Anonymous jess said...

The injectables aren't so bad, MG. Better than the evil drug that shall not be named.

I refuse to take it anymore. We're working around it.

At 6:49 AM, Anonymous V-Grrrl said...

What a horrible, horrible way to feel. I'm so sorry.

I don't know why I've never had any major episodes of jealousy. I take it for granted that my husband must have flashes of lust for other women, and that doesn't bother me. Whatever runs through his mind stays there. Getting emotionally engaged with someone though would bother me a lot.

At 6:36 PM, Blogger SassyQuack said...

Hopefully the injections are more of a friend to you. No matter what, the hormones can transform someone formerly in control of their emotions into someone who weeps openly at banking commercials. Ask for the lowest dose you can get away with taking.

On the other hand- With Office Gal in your past, it is understandable that you would have a more difficult time trusting . That guy was a definite twit.

As for Stringy Blonde-I have been her (hopefully not the stringy part) and can say that while it IS possible that a woman simply feels more comfortable in the company of "the guys", a REAL friend would have been more sensitive to the feelings of the girlfriends of her pals...and at least have ATTEMPTED to be a bit more open and welcoming. Stringy's actions make her sound like someone who wasn't REALLY thrilled that your guy had attached himself to another gal.

Extra points for Booby for sending her packing.

Good luck with the evil drugs. May they treat you better than they treated me.


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