This is a Really Real Mental Health post.

I started a new form of crafting last week.

A tiny little stamped cross stitch project just to see how I liked it.

After finishing that one, I went to Walmart and got a larger one, as well as a printed embroidery project, because honestly I didn’t notice they were different.

I can see myself doing both of these on a regular basis.

One more calming meditative skill to add into the rotation.

I love that this one is so portable.

I sat on the front porch in the sun the other day working on my current project,

I haven’t been able to do that since my chainmailling days.

I’m sure that particular craft will come back around at some point as well.

There’s still a bin of supplies in the basement.

The house feels foreign and strange.

While Wonder Woman hasn’t been deeply depressed for our entire relationship, there’s always been some level of it there.

And she’s never had energy or motivation.

That’s different now.

Even positive change is stressful.

Right now it’s entirely possible that she’s running a bit too high, medication induced hypomania,

but she’s been so low for so long that it’s honestly hard to tell what her new normal will look like.

She’s working closely with doctors, and it’s a process I understand very well from going through it on my own.

But the change in household energy and dynamic is hard.

I’m used to directing every little thing.

Or at least waiting until the last minute for it to be done.

I’ve always had this quiet anxiety in the back of my head about things that were her responsibility,

but that I could see her putting off till the last minute.

Sometimes they didn’t get done at all.

We spent this first 3 years of our relationship making sure that we didn’t overstep boundaries.

Those boundaries were drawn with red sharpie, keeping my problems and responsibilities separate from hers.

I didn’t realize how much I was emotionally dancing on her side,

while not saying anything.

Now, all of the things are being done.

Household tasks are handled without my input,

or at the very least, without any hesitation.

She’s working through her own paperwork and logistical stuff,

only asking for my input when it is needed.

And it’s strange for me.

In every relationship we have roles that we play,

and often those roles are comfortable, even if they are dysfunctional.

Our roles are changing.

Change is hard, even if it’s good.

We, as individuals,

and also as a couple,

are unfinished projects.

Over time things are going to change and become more clear.

There is no final picture.

We will keep adding to it,

going back and removing stitches that aren’t quite right,

incorporating new colors.

Each time there is anxiety as we wonder what the next version of the picture will look like.

We are not the same people we were during those first conversations on the internet.

That’s a really good thing.

But learning, and relearning each other is a process,

one that will hopefully be repeated many times over the years.

Change is hard and uncomfortable,

even when it’s positive.

Discomfort is part of growing.

It’s just a matter of learning to sit with it.