Disclosures. PS I hate that word.

I guess the practice of disclosure now is don't?

I was struck by grace with some moment of insight into myself, my behavior, my actions, and I went there and thought about it.

I need time alone. I need it, or else I will suffocate. By time alone, I mean time
- thinking my own thoughts - not someone else's
- doing what I want to do, not what I am supposed to do, even if I made a commitment out of some higher-order desire that makes me have to supposed to do things a lot of the time. This usually consists of reading, writing, painting, exercising, being out in nature, sometimes talking to a friend (though that has been happening more and more rarely lately).

I'm a PhD student. I very, very rarely get true time alone. I am a married person. I very, very rarely get time alone that is not the result of an argument.

I disclosed that I realize I believe I sometimes allow arguments to happen on purpose so that I will get time alone because I am gun-shy to ask for it.

Why am I gun-shy? Because I ask for so much already. Because I have decided to commit myself to an incredibly rigorous training program in order to some day have something like a career that I can feel proud of, that will make my father and the rest of my family proud, but most importantly, that I will find fulfillment in. Something worth doing for as many hours a day as present day west-society jobs demand. And goddamnit, I found something, a place, where I feel like I can actually make a positive difference in something that motivates me. I would've been very happy in the Ivory Tower until I taught classes to inmates in prison.

My very vulnerable, tender, embarrassing, difficult disclosure was not met with appreciation, or encouragement. Actually it wasn't met at all.

I'm too tired to even finish writing this. I'm tired of constantly being called selfish while he says he can't live without me.