Trying to get through the world every day without tripping over my own two feet.

Monday, August 18, 2014

Warped

It's super early as I start this post, still pitch black outside the office window. In the glow of a street light I can see the shape of a rabbit in the front yard, nibbling on pears that fell from our tree during a windy storm yesterday evening.  All of the cats have already gone back to sleep, scattered all over the house. J had to get up at the unbearable hour of 5am today, and as always I get up with him to spend those few moments together. Well I guess he didn't "have" to get up that early, he is just compelled by his dedication to his job to do it.  He knows he will be in a meeting from noon until 6pm today- some safety training- and normally on Mondays he spends most of his day running reports for the corporate offices.  He felt he needed to go in a few hours early in order to get all of "his" work done.  My husband doesn't know how to delegate- he's the boss but doesn't want to burden any of his employees with extra duties, even for one morning.  It makes me proud and annoys me at the same time.  Proud because that's the kind of man he is, but annoyed because it cuts into our lives.  I have to remind myself that it's a life we wouldn't have, if not for that paycheck, so it's in my best interest sometimes to just suck it up and not whine too much.  When he left this morning and said he would see me in 14 hours, he wasn't exaggerating.  And it wouldn't surprise me if it was longer than 14 hours.

One of our morning rituals is reading the paper together over coffee, before he rushes off to work.  When I was working, this didn't happen.  I went into the office before he was even awake, so he was left alone in a dark empty house every morning- suffering through an endless variety of K cups instead of the strong pot of freshly ground coffee that I now have waiting on him once he's showered and dressed.  So no matter what time he gets up, I'm up too.  I suppose I could have gone back to bed this morning- it was still dark out, and is supposed to be rainy all day.  But once I'm up I never do, I'm not much of a sleeper. Yesterday he worked in the yard all day laying stones around the flower beds for me, trimming hedges, digging up some bulbs that need to be transplanted. Together we made a video of him taking the Ice Bucket Challenge so we could post it online. I worked in the house doing laundry, vacuuming, scrubbing down the kitchen. It was a nice Sunday at home.  So for my Monday, it's going to be a nicer chore-free day and I will try my hardest not to feel guilty about that.  I will read, I will work on pottery, I will catch up on emails.  Every morning, just for laughs, J reads our horoscopes.  "Let's see what kind of day you're going to have" he tells me each time.  We try to dissect and predict the meaning of each other's- oh that must mean I'm going to do laundry today, or that must mean your boss is going to forget your meeting this afternoon.  And then, for extra fun, he picks one word to replace with another nonsensical one, to make me laugh- or to see if I'm really listening.  Today my horoscope said I should be "in neutral" and do something that I enjoy. Hey, the heavenly stars don't have to tell me twice, and who am I to argue with the universe?

I don't take for granted those few short minutes every day that we spend together, and I don't intend to miss out on them.  I have friends who are already widows.  I have friends who have husbands that barely grunt at them.  I have friends who bicker with their spouses to the point that I want to say, geez why are you two still married?  Having already gone through a drawn out (shitty) marriage and (long overdue) divorce, I understand how wonderful and amazing it is to have someone like J in my life.  It's been almost 11 years for us.  It's crazy because I was with W for 13 years, yet that seems like it was just a blink of an eye compared to what I have, what I've done and seen, who I've become since I've been with J.  Maybe it's maturity, I don't know.  As a young wife in my 20's, with a young husband fresh out of college and still acting like a moron, it was challenging to say the least.  And people change and grow- sometimes they grow closer but many times, like in my case, they grow so far apart that it would be like building a bridge from California to Hawaii in order to continue on as a couple.

If a repeat of this weekend, this morning was my life from this day forward, I would be pretty happy.  I know many times my depression seems to make me "think" I'm not happy, I'm not satisfied with my life, that I'm not in a good place.  But I know logically that I am.  There really isn't anything that could make it better.  I don't have the typical worries that many people do, I don't really have any genuine fears hovering over my shoulder.  Sure I could sit and fret over what would happen to me, if something awful happened to J, but that is pointless and if my mind does wander there I quickly rope it back the other way. Depression and anxiety definitely screws with your brain, and your thought process, it steals your bliss, it makes your body freeze up when you are simply getting ready to head out to the grocery store and you start worrying about being hit by a truck and oh my god, will J end up with someone else once I'm dead and will he love her more and oh my god I don't want my husband touching another woman.  Yeah, really, my head does go there sometimes, and that's f*cked up and crazy and, well, sometimes I can't help it.  I do wish J understood my depression better, although maybe it's my fault for not wanting to burden him with the true depths of it.  He is still under the impression that if I would take my vitamins, eat better, exercise, and get sunshine, it would make it all better, make it all go away.  I know he is being sweet and thoughtful, not dismissive.  He doesn't understand that the depression is truly like a physical weight that is pushing me down, smothering me, sitting on my chest and damn well suffocating me.  He's seen me in the middle of a panic attack before, but he doesn't see the pain, the fear, the uncontrollable reactions.

I do tend to focus on the negative, and I think J has come to expect that and be okay with it.  For instance, this weekend I was busy working on some things for our next vacation in three weeks, to New England.  I was planning a day trip along the coast of Maine, all the quaint little towns and shops and diners.  After a few hours of research on the computer, and compiling and mapping out a list of places to visit, I started the conversation with J this way- "As long as we don't have bad weather, I think we'll enjoy it" and his response was to look over at me with a genuine warm smile and simply say "We will have a good time".  I couldn't help myself, not even then.  I had to worry about rain, three weeks from now, in another state.  That is me.  SO me.  I don't know which is the chicken and which is the egg- does depression trigger anxiety, or does the constant anxiety cause the depression?  Does it matter, when you are in the grips of both? Instead of casting aside my worries as ridiculous, J always talks to me about why I'm thinking that way.  He gives alternatives, makes me walk through the issue step by step and tries to offer better solutions, real solutions, instead of that sheer screaming thought that I won't be able to manage it, I won't be able to do it. He is very much like a therapist, with the voice of calm and reason.  I guess that's because he's spent his entire life in management and handles the crises of employees every day.  He is paid big bucks to remain cool and to find the answers and to guide people.  I am glad that is deeply ingrained in his soul and that he brings it home to me every day, because I need it.  Without him, I would fly off the handle and just keep spinning out of control.  I know I have a few deep fears that J can never fix- like driving through big cities- but on a day to day basis he keeps me at least 90% sane.

I know my blog seems disjointed, repetitive.  Sometimes I have it already planned, what I want to post about.  Most of the time, I just write what I'm feeling or thinking at the moment- whether it's rehashing the past or fretting over the future.  Sometimes, like today, it turns into something else.

My depression wasn't what I wanted to talk about today, but when I sat down at the blog, I decided to just block out what I really wanted to post about. Instead I decided to try and focus on the positive- like the morning paper and coffee with J- and think on the things that aren't causing me anxiety.  I spent way too many hours over the weekend dwelling on things that made me immobile with fear and worries and a swarm of "what if" questions buzzing nonstop in my head.  Until I started to have a migraine, until my chest started to hurt with the pressure of not being able to take a deep breath, until I wanted to cry but instead rubbed my eyes raw trying to stave off the tears.  Right now J is the one feeling the stress and he needs me to be strong and support him, and that is something that I can do.  Change can be good, I have to keep telling myself that.  And I have to remember that no matter what, J is going to be there for me, with me, no matter where we are at or what we are going through.  And I keep telling myself that I make issues into potentially bigger problems, but it's just a symptom of the anxiety, and it doesn't have to be my reality.

MISS GEE

1 comment:

  1. Interesting blog. You struck a chord with me when you started talking about depression, I can't remember the last time i felt good.

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