It Starts with Me. Do I want to be happy, or do I want to be right?

It starts with me. That was my thought as I sat at the bookstore struggling with the thought of yet another failed marriage. Tears streamed down my cheeks as I hid behind a stack of books. Each book presenting me with a question, should I concentrate on my marriage or myself? Each time the answer was “my marriage.” I found myself opening a door to more blame directed at my husband. I then decided change had to start from within. Our so I had heard. Me it is! For over 20 years I had been struggling with debilitating panic attacks, rage and episodes of mania as I feared men. Today fighting to catch my breath, had to be the day I did something different.
I settled quickly on Mindful Loving. It seemed to help me focus on myself, but also feel like the greater good was towards my marriage. It was a terrific choice. As I sat and voraciously gulped down the first few chapters, along with a comforting piece of cheesecake my symptoms got instantly worse. I have always known things have to get worse before they get better. I must be onto something as my stomach filled with butterflies and my fight or flight response to began to rattle my agitated body around in the chair. I forced myself to stay put and allow my ego to take the confrontation it needed so badly. As I answered the questions of whether I was in an ego based marriage or a spiritual one, I could take no more. I had officially been called out. I wondered what this meant and how I would ever turn myself around.
I sadly took myself to the mall in hopes of finding a new outfit or something to make me happy. Nothing looked even remotely interesting. I moped around the store shelves wondering what to do and then realized that a first step I could take was to call my husband and offer an olive branch. We had been fighting all day, verbally attacking one another left and right and I wondered what good my call would do. I sent a few good thoughts his way and then dialed. Shockingly he answered with kindness. Not his usual, your bothering me at work voice. That got me excited. Wow it was working already. The girls are out for the night. I said but I know you need to work late. He always worked late as an avoidance of more conflict. We then talked about the day and got off the phone. My heart sank a bit as I remembered thte days he would have rushed me out for a date night. I moped a bit more and suddenly my cell rang. See you at 7, he said. My heart flitted. I felt like a school girl again. It was not perfect, we still felt the pain of the emotional bruises, and the fear of getting close again, but it was a baby step.
Since then I have felt my ego asking me why I am doing all the work. The agitation from past hurts comes up and wants to be discussed which usually leads to mayhem. I am fighting with every breath to be the one helping not hurting. I finally had to ask myself, do I want to be happy or do I want to be right?
Thank you