I was so scared to post yesterday. I make it a rule in my life to be honest and open about how I'm feeling, but there are often things I don't share because they aren't terribly relevant. And then there are things, like my history of sexual abuse, that are tough to share because they are so personal. And this is the Internet. And there is such a thing as oversharing. And perhaps my post from yesterday falls into that realm. But I can't think too much about it now, because I have no regrets about telling my story, painful as it is. Because it is, unfortunately, very relevant to what I'm going through right now. And well, encouragement and support from others goes a long way. Thank you so much for listening.
I feel that, in telling my story, or at least the gist of it, I have breathed new life into this blog. I don't feel the need to be silent anymore. I'm not really a silent person; I mean, I love to talk, but it's actually in my nature to pull away from others when things get really, really hard. But sometimes a person's just got to reach out, either by clicking on "Publish Post" or writing an email or making a phone call.
We live in a culture where people constantly guilt and shame us into looking on the bright side. We're uncomfortable with unhappiness; we think that we should always be counting our blessings and being grateful, and yes, we should make it a point to remember the good things in life. But we should never, ever try to gloss over the bad or to ignore the places that hurt. In the long run, it doesn't do anyone any good to "don't worry, be happy." Life sucks sometimes. It doesn't mean that it's always going to suck or that there aren't moments and places of happiness amidst the suckage. It doesn't mean that we constantly should be negative. But there's nothing wrong with saying, "I'm having a really hard time."
I suppose what I'm trying to say here is that I appreciate your comments so very much. You all are very wise, much wiser than the people who have told me, "You've just got to choose to be happy." Um, what?! Really?! Do people really think I don't want to be happy, that I'm perfectly content to feel crappy, that I love talking about my problems? I'd love to poop rainbows if I could, dammit. Depression isn't a choice.
No wonder people don't talk about how they feel. No wonder they always apologize for being anything less than ecstatic about life. There are actually people out there who think that if you're depressed, you can just stop being depressed. And well, that's total bullshit.
I did end up writing Charlie's ten-month letter to him. I cried the entire time. I worry constantly that my depression will affect him in some way. I try my hardest to keep the tears under wraps when he's around, because I know babies pick up on that stuff, and I don't want him to feel scared or anxious. I am eternally grateful that he is too young to really remember this. I am also so, so grateful that he is such a happy, healthy, and wonderful baby. I have no doubts that he is thriving, and as wrong as I am feeling these days, it's a lovely reminder that there are some things that I'm doing right.
Yesterday in general a whole lot of tears were shed. Roy and I have made the tough decision to move. This has been extraordinarily difficult. I love our house. Moving in was a sign that we'd arrived. The reality is that we may end up back in an apartment. I have nothing against apartments in general. I lived in them for years. I guess I just never anticipated moving back into one. It feels like a step back, even though I know it's a good one to take. I'm looking at it as an adventure. It will give us the opportunity to really pare down our belongings. We'll probably even get rid of our TV, as we almost never use it. Even more important, we'll be able to save some money. We have a huge amount of debt to pay down. We'll never be able to move on from here if we don't pay it off.
I haven't given up hope of finding another house with cheaper rent to move into. It is relatively easy to find options for living these days, but it seems that the good houses are taken in an instant. We've been looking all week, and it's discouraging to see how quickly the good properties go and how many scams are out there.
We're heading out for an impromptu trip this weekend. Roy and I love California's central coast, and so that's where we're headed. A trip like this is absolutely not in the budget, but we're doing it anyway. We really need to.
I haven't really touched on this subject, but Roy is also having some major emotional stuff going on. Quite a pair, we are. It's hard to see my husband be so sad and so down on himself, when to me he is the most wonderful man I have ever known. We are taking care of each other; despite our mutual depression, I don't feel our marriage is in danger. We've been talking a lot and spending a lot of time together after Charlie goes to bed. This week we watched Fried Green Tomatoes, and I swear I cried through the whole thing. It'd been years since I'd seen that movie.
Anyway, I'm very excited about this little getaway, so excited that I've accomplished more this morning than I have all week. I can't wait to be there and to take a million photos and to hold my baby and be with my husband without all this crap weighing us down.
I hope to have some awesome photos to share with you next week. Enjoy your weekend!