bliss-sad's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- - I wish I knew how to stop being angry with my husband. They say that anger is a secondary emotion, so what am I really feeling? Hurt, I suppose. Annoyed. Anxious. Overwhelmed. Stressed. Depressed. Tired. Wounded. Vulnerable (which I hate more than anything in the world.) That's a really hard question because I feel so out of touch with myself. I wonder if I've spent so much time and effort trying to make things good for Devon throughout his grieving that I've begun to resent him for it. I've completely fallen out of step with myself because I've devoted everything inside of me to trying to fix his world. And I don't mean to tack myself onto a cross here, because he didn't ask me to do that. He never said, "Forget your issues, Nichole, fix my life!" It's just what I did. Maybe I did it because I love him more than anything in the world and seeing him in pain fucking kills me. Maybe I did it because I know him, and I knew he would go about his life as if nothing ever happened. But, then there's the frighteningly hypocritical possibility that I did it because I didn't want to deal with any of it, either. Fuck..... It was probably some combination of all three, to be honest. I mean, I know that there is an issue between the two of us here, but maybe I'm not identifying it correctly. I know that a lot of my anger right now has to do with his refusal to act and his tendency to get complacent. I'll also be completely honest and say that money is, for the first time in our relationship, a huge point of contention right now, also. By not dealing with his debts and forfeiting our refund, there is no financial windfall coming. There is no end in sight to the money struggles, no end in sight to the stress. Also, I have no idea how I will pay for school now. Initially, the plan was go back in August after banking half of the return for the cost of classes. Now...well, I guess we all have to make sacrifices, right? As much as I'd like to say that I'm the perfect picture of healing and grief counseling and moving on, I know Devon has complaints about me, as well. I know that what I perceive as strength and emotional stability in myself, Devon perceives as coldness and distance. I know that he wishes I was softer, less stressed out and overwhelmed, more considerate of his feelings. He wishes I spared feelings and wasn't so blunt He wants intimacy and romance and cuddles and warm-fuzzy feelings and I feel so overextended that I can't even wrap my mind around that. Like, sorry, babe, I can't cuddle....I have to run numbers for the next four hours to make sure we can balance having running water/heat with paying for car insurance and internet and gas and internet and, you know, feeding ourselves. No time for love, Derv, I've gotta tow your car to the mechanic and find a way to pay for the last repairs and the next repairs. It would be great to spend the weekend with you, darlin', but I have to go install a toilet and put up drywall in this dude's living room because it was the only way to make sure that you have gas in our cars to get to work. I knew when we borrowed money from my parents in order to visit his mother and say our goodbyes that we'd be putting ourselves into a difficult position financially. I knew that the whole ordeal would put us behind (and keep us there for a while), but I could say to myself, "It'll all be temporary! You just have to make it to March and it'll get easier. You'll be able to breathe again." Then he dropped the ball and things got even worse for us. I mean, it's hard enough trying to cope with mental illness and depression, but when you factor in trying to heal from trauma and grief things get incredibly difficult. Add in some financial difficulty and shit gets real. Since I watched that light at the end of the tunnel disappear, I've become obsessed with figuring out how to get over this hump. Instead of watching the episode of Parks and Recreation play out, I'm trying to calculate the payment to principal of my student loan. Instead of enjoying time with my husband while we cook a meal together, I'm taking inventory of the groceries in the house and wondering if we can get by for another 2 weeks without going to the store. Instead of lounging on the couch, trying to get over a bad day, I'm wondering how many times I can sew up my "professional pants" before they start to look remarkably UNprofessional. I tuck the underwires back into my bras when they come out, and I just pray that I'm able to replace the fucking thing before it stabs me in the heart..... And while I'm pretty hung up on my side of that, I know it has to suck for Devon. It's gotta be shitty to be with someone who is irritated and annoyed and overwhelmed and stressed out all the time. I don't want to be like that. I really don't. I want to be carefree and happy. I want to be able to sleep at night without balancing the checkbook down to the penny (okay, actually, I just want to balance the checkbook without that sinking feeling inside of me). I want to be able to cuddle with my husband and enjoy our time together, but I really don't enjoy anything anymore. I mean, there's the whole dead people thing. In addition to feeling guilt and regret and loss and pain, I know I've hit a pretty big wall in terms of my depression. Depression that doesn't have anything to do with all the bodies I saw--the boring kind that just makes it hard to get out of bed and do people stuff like, i don't know, shower. Then there's the money thing, and I don't just mean worrying about it (okay, okay, obsessing).....I mean, we're counting our pennies so closely that we haven't done anything fun in like a year. The last time we got in the car to take a trip that wasn't related to someone we love dying was last April. We haven't been to a festival in two years, and it's been over a year since we went to a concert. There's just no relief, ya know? All there is is worry and stress and fear and anxiety. I don't want to be a person anymore. I don't want to a human. I don't know how to balance life. I don't know how to stop being angry. I don't know how to forgive and forget and let go. 12:52 p.m. - 02.17.15 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
||||||
|
||||||