Tuesday, January 01, 2008

Fucking 2008

My parents took Bubba for New Year's Eve so we could party with LilCherie and her hubby. We were to go pick him today at 6 p.m. and have dinner at parents'. We spent the night at LilCherie's and then had a whole day to spend as adults.

The day dawned bright and cold, finding me and in a pretty good mood with the thought of maybe, possibly having sex with my husband, since we could go home to an empty house and do it up, if we so chose. After a many-months-long dry spell because we couldn't stand each other, we finally did it a week and a half ago -- the culmination of us actually getting along for a few weeks.

I blatantly hinted to J. my plans for the day shortly after he woke up. He then spent the next hour and a half playing videogames in LilCherie's basement with her husband and son, even after I called down nicely to "remind" him that we needed to get going if we were to have any time to ourselves today.

I let it slide, and we got back to our house around 1:30. I took a shower, put on a little makeup, put in the diaphragm. So far, so good. Went into the bedroom with some old notes J. had written me in high school. They were sweet and loving and funny. I laughed out loud, calling out to J. (who was in the living room playing his trivia game on the computer) many times about how great they were and how he should come read some.

Now tell me this, friends--to me, it seems pretty obvious that no kid+fresh shower+earlier hints+wife calling out to you from the bedroom=sex. Is it just me, or is that pretty clear?

J. never came to the bedroom. He continued to play his trivia game. I packed up the notes, went out and had a smoke, came in barely holding back the tears then retreated to the bedroom. THIS is when J. chooses to get off his ass and come find me--when I am so humiliated and depressed that he is the last person I want to talk to. I try to pass it off with the "I'm just tired," excuse but it is unconvincing so I admitted I was depressed and told him I just wanted to be alone. He leaves me alone. I sob in bed for awhile. Come out to get a drink and take some leftover painkillers. I ask if J. can go get Bubba by himself so that I can be alone to spiral down into suicidal depression. He agrees. Painkillers cause coma and I fall asleep for three hours.

I wake up, write J. a long letter that he doesn't know about yet because there hasn't been a moment without Bubba around since he got back. Eat something. Start feeling a little calmer. J. and Bubba come home, Bubba's wired. J. lets me know that my parents seemed disappointed that I hadn't come for supper/the Bubba pick-up. I call my parents to apologize for my absence and to explain that it wasn't them, it was me and my depression, etc.

My dad decides to ignore the fact that I was calling to fucking apologize and tells me that I "owed" them at least a phone call to let them know I wasn't coming. He gives me a good old-fashioned guilt trip: about Mom slaving away in the kitchen all day, about how J. and I never seem to get any better and that it's causing HIM problems because he's so worried about us, about how unfair it is that he and Mom and everybody else has to deal with my emotional problems.

I pretty much went off on him. Told him I have an illness and yep, they have to fucking deal with it or not be around me because I have a fucking illness and it's not like I choose to be this way. That I'm not that shitty of a daughter. That reaming me out about not calling to tell them I wasn't going to be there is not "being supportive." That I can't solve my parent's marital problems and he can't solve mine and that's just the way it is. That the reason I couldn't "just make a phone call" in the midst of my emotional and psychological pain is that I was too busy fantasizing about going into our basement bathroom and putting a bullet in my head before I conked out in a drugged stupor from medication to try to calm myself down. When he started ragging on me about something else I said, "I learned from the best!" and hung up on him.

Then I cried, went to the store to get my son some popsicles and ice cream because he was incessantly asking for them, watched half of Shrek 3 while intermittently and surreptitiously wiping tears away from my face. The evening winds down and the bedtime battle with Bubba is beginning. "I wanna sleep in your bed," he whines, over and over again. What does my husband say?

"No, Bubba, you're going to go into your bedroom and Mommy's going to read you a story and then she'll lay with you until you fall asleep." Fuck me. The fucking LAST THING I CAN HANDLE IS FIGHTING WITH MY KID ABOUT GOING TO SLEEP, JESUS CHRIST, I'M TRYING TO FIGURE OUT IF I SHOULD GO TO THE GODDAMN ER AND GET ADMITTED TO A PSYCH WARD AND YOU WANT ME TO FUCKING PUT THE KID TO GODDAMN BED???? I tell him I can't handle it tonight. He sighs and trudges into the bedroom to do it. It seems I've failed once again.

I suck.

6 comments:

Melissa said...

You don't suck at all. Honestly, it seems like you were doing what you needed to do to take care of yourself even though the people around you were making it really hard and being really unsupportive.

I think you have good instincts about how much you can handle. If you think you need to get help immediately, please, please do it.

And when you feel up to it, post again to let us know how you're doing. I'm worried about you.

thrice said...

Oh, hun. If you suck, then I REALLY SUCK.....

You are letting people know that you are hurting and they are the ones not responding. I wish that I could say something to make a difference.

Amazing that you had sex with your husband. I could never stomach the thought.

Anonymous said...

Please let us know how you are doing. It does seem like the people you need the most are being very unsupportive. I am so sorry. You don't suck, not in the least.

Cass said...

It sounds like you did what you needed to do to take care of yourself. Unfortunately, others have their own issues to deal with at the same time...thats the annoying thing about being human and having to interact with others.

I really wish I could make this all better for you. It really sucks. It seemed to me before you even left my house that J. was on the same page as far as a little fun in the afternoon. What is up with that?

Sometimes I really don't know what to say...other than I love ya and I want you to be happy...If you need anything give me a call!

charmedgirl said...

dude, you SO don't suck.

don't even get me started on the gender politics of initiating sex...the power plays...the passive aggression. i can't believe we as a species ever fuck at all. i have cried over that scenario many, many times. fuck.

my best friend in the entire universe (soulmate friend) has major anxiety and depression. i've been through at least 4 hospitalizations with her...and i know for a FACT that you don't suck. you're actually pretty good at it (is that an insult? i hope not because it's a total compliment, if such a thing can exist on dealing with the shittiest of the shitty). i will say right off the bat that you are right, and j and your dad are wrong. i usually refrain from such black-and-white declarations, but fuck it. you need to do what's best for you at any given moment, and the only one who knows what that is (disclaimer: when you are not a danger to yourself), is you.

why can't the people closest, and have the most vested interest in helping a depressed person, get a clue??? i don't know the answer to that, i think it's just so frustrating that they try to use the ole "tough love" shit, that or they're selfish assholes to begin with.

and depression IS frustrating. what people don't seem to get (in my experience) is that the most FRUSTRATED person BY FAR is the one with the depression.

Tingle said...

Men are stupid. Even when you say, "Come F*@# ME!" they stil don't seem to get it. I know that's hard for us normal people to understand, especially since they seem to always act like "horndogs" with their buddies.

YOU don't suck, it was just an exceptionally sucky day. It upsets me that when you need them, the people close to you aren't there for you - and they actually make it worse!

I also think most men in general and the older generation just don't get "depression" or other mental ailments. They think we should just "snap out of it" or talk ourselves out of it. They don't get that is like saying, "Oh, you broke your arm, just tell yourself you're fine and you'll be fine."

Again, men are so stupid! Good for you for doing what YOU needed. Obviously J. or your parents aren't going to give you what you need.