I hear people say "Marriage is harrrrrrrrrrrrrrd!" and they make it sound like they're being put through a march through Death Valley -- and I don't get that.

Brain surgery and Olympic-level gymnastics are hard, too, but people get a lot of satisfaction out of them, anyway. Getting married seemed more like simply putting a label on an irrevocable situation, nothing really changed except legalities. I'm so sorry for the people who work so hard and don't get the return I did.

Gud, I don't know you very well, but if even half of the stuff you say here is true, the problem in this relationship is not you.

What Vortex (and Tep) said.

I don't think I'm good enough to be in a relationship.

This? Is patently false. There is no test to determine worthiness for a relationship. Relationships are not reserved for the elites who have their shit together (hint: they don't exist). Relationships are all about being with someone who adores your flavor of wacky. It's not about measuring up to another person's idea of what a partner should be.

What those wise ladies said, Gud. And I'm sure your therapist would say the same, if he or she is worth their salt. Everyone is worthy of love, everyone.

If even the vulgar talking yam has people who love him, how can you possibly believe that you are unworthy?

Gud, I don't know you very well, but if even half of the stuff you say here is true, the problem in this relationship is not you.

That one.

The best analogy I can come up with is that -- this is my experience only; obviously I can't speak for any other person in any kind of a relationship -- marriage involves work for sure, but it's *satisfying* work, like putting a lot of work into a hobby you love. (I'm thinking of how much work it is to make cosplay costumes, or to have a garden that produces a good bounty, or mastering a piece of music, or or or.) No question that it's work. And it could be described as "hard," but not in the march-through-Death-Valley sense. It's satisfying work, and work worth doing.

Ah, that's such a good analogy. I feel like I've only ever heard "Ugh, it's such hard work" or "It not work, it's a joy!"

Hey, so remember when I was so mad about my medical bills? It's open enrollment, and I totally signed up for the same plan again because I remembered why I did it in the first place -- it's $50/month cheaper than the next-most-expensive plan. So even paying however much it was out of pocket this year, I'm overall ahead of the game cost-wise, even still.

Fingers crossed!

Fingers crossed!

The motto of the U.S. health care system.

Steph's analogy was a revelation for me. My marriage to Rob was hard work. I loved him, but looking back on it, we were not going to survive. I started really paying attention to those signs right before he was diagnosed with cancer, and then I felt like an ass because who in the hell thinks about leaving a spouse who just found out they have cancer?!?! I pushed all of it to the side and focused on supporting him in any way possible, and not walking out of a miserable job so we could pay for his treatment. Then he died, and I found out so many things that would have destroyed our marriage if I had discovered them while he was alive. I felt incredibly guilty that I was so angry with my husband who was dead. Everyone else was saying these amazing things about him--and they were all true--but I was the only one who knew the rest. And I felt like a heel. It took me a long time to let it go, because it wasn't going to change anything. There are still days when I get angry at him for the lies. I miss him every day, because I loved him regardless. I only ever wanted him to be happy, even if we didn't stay together.

My relationship with EMTguy? Falls right into Tep's analogy. It's worth doing what we have to do to make it work. It hasn't been easy, but what we get out of it is so much more than we've put into it.

Jesse, that's good! I never count my premiums in my head, because that's money I never see in the first place. Thanks for the reminder to look at it overall.

Gud, I don't know you very well, but if even half of the stuff you say here is true, the problem in this relationship is not you.

This. Also, I don't think being in or out of a romantic relationship is indicative of goodness. I've never had a romantic relationship longer than two months, but I'm reasonably sure I'm more or less a decent person. I'm just not good at romantic relationships. There are so many other kinds of relationships out there--parental, fraternal, friendly, etc. Claiming general failure for not succeeding at one type of relationship could be like Michael Phelps saying he's a sucky athlete because his biking speeds didn't qualify him for the Tour de France.

And here's another thing: sometimes the work in a relationship/marriage isn't about working on the relationship -- it's about working on your own shit. Because oh, my god, has this relationship forced me to work on my shit (and continue to work on it). I mean, I *chose* to work on my shit because (1) I hope it makes me a better person in general, but WAY more important to me (2) I want to BE a better person IN this relationship.

I don't think I'm good enough to be in a relationship.

This? Is patently false. There is no test to determine worthiness for a relationship. Relationships are not reserved for the elites who have their shit together (hint: they don't exist). Relationships are all about being with someone who adores your flavor of wacky.

Seriously. Let me reiterate: SERIOUSLY.

Gud, nobody's perfect, but damn, you are not the source of the problems, there.

I've never been in a relationship that wasn't hard work, and it wasn't rewarding work. It was a price I paid to have someone I thought I loved/needed. I've been in relationships with people who refused to see that we had any work to do, and people who insisted that all the work needed was on me to do. I'm tired of shouldering other peoples' burdens and dragging them to where they say they want to go.

After Melisa died, I found out - and came to realize - a lot of things that should/would have made me walk away. It was painful. I was really angry with her. It was so hard to feel so angry with someone I still loved, who wasn't there to work it out with me. Then someone said to me, "just because she's dead, doesn't mean she wasn't bad for you; she didn't stop being who she was when she died." (He actually said, "A dead jackass doesn't stop being a jackass," but I translated.) It made me feel better, oddly. Like, she was still a person I could have conflicting and painful feelings about.