Giving Thanks
I have been lax in my posting - it's been over a week.
Shamefully in honor of Thanksgiving, I will take a moment and comment on what I am and should be thankful for. I have a wonderful husband (Pants) who, while he may not always say the perfect thing at the perfect time, he is sincere, honest, very hot and truly loves me. I have two wonderful beautiful sons. The oldest is having a difficult time right now, as he (Medium Pants) is 9 years old and knows everything. We are having some issues with his attitude and tone - he is wonderfully polite to everyone else, thank God, but uses a tone with us that makes the hair on my neck stand up. If I had used that tone as a child, I would have required dentures. But he is a sweet and smart boy, and we will work through this - sweet baby Jesus, tell me it's just a phase.
I have been having some troubles lately - mainly I believe I am suffering from depression. If you knew my mother, you would know the gravity of my actually uttering those words. "We just don't have those kind of mental problems. Only weak people say they are depressed and it's just because they don't have the wherewithall to suck it up." That being said, I should make an appointment with a doctor. But I am terrified of doing that - who wants to cut themselves open for someone to evaluate and analyze? Not me - besides, what if I uncover something that hadn't occured to me before? I don't mean some repressed abuse as a child - didn't happen. But what if I discover that I am even more inadequate than I already think I am - what if I have even more repulsive flaws than I originally thought? Frightening, to say the very least.
Anyway, back to the whole "Giving Thanks" concept. I guess hidden between the fear and the denial is guilt. Why should I be sad - I have so much in comparison to some people. The fact that I feel sad all the time is shameful. I have a great family (all the pants), a wonderful home, good friends, a dysfunctional family (mom and sibs) that is ridiculously entertaining and we are all healthy and safe. What the hell am I bitching about. The fact is, I do not know. At first, when this all began, it was like a big dark cloud. I assumed (incorrectly) that I must be sad all the time and crying every day because my marriage must not be working. Pants isn't romantic enough, he doesn't listen, I have no time for myself, etc and blah, blah. But after months of introspection, I painfully realized that it is I who has the problem. Yes, there are things I would like to alter slightly with respects to Pants, but no dealbreakers - he is a good man. The fact that stood, staring me in the face, was that I am the one who is inadequate. I was so busy trying to figure out the "reason" for the way I felt, that I was far too quick to blame us.
That mirrored reflection was startling and abrasive. So, I have been coming to grips with the fact that I may have what is considered a mental illness - it ain't easy. I am ashamed and embarrassed. The stigma, one which I helped perpetuate out of ignorance, is suffocating. Perhaps whan I do finally get in to talk to someone, some of that will be erased.
Okay, now again this giving thanks thing (bring it around town, spongebob). I am thankful that I have a husband who allows me to be so very and strangely suddenly fragile. He accepts this and has readily stepped up to help me. He is as in the dark as I am about this whole thing, so we will learn together. I know that I can lean on him and he will take care of me - my only real fear now is wondering for how long. I don't want him to be the man with the sick wife. So this weekend, I will give thanks that he is here - even if it is just for right now. Before this all gets ugly.
Shamefully in honor of Thanksgiving, I will take a moment and comment on what I am and should be thankful for. I have a wonderful husband (Pants) who, while he may not always say the perfect thing at the perfect time, he is sincere, honest, very hot and truly loves me. I have two wonderful beautiful sons. The oldest is having a difficult time right now, as he (Medium Pants) is 9 years old and knows everything. We are having some issues with his attitude and tone - he is wonderfully polite to everyone else, thank God, but uses a tone with us that makes the hair on my neck stand up. If I had used that tone as a child, I would have required dentures. But he is a sweet and smart boy, and we will work through this - sweet baby Jesus, tell me it's just a phase.
I have been having some troubles lately - mainly I believe I am suffering from depression. If you knew my mother, you would know the gravity of my actually uttering those words. "We just don't have those kind of mental problems. Only weak people say they are depressed and it's just because they don't have the wherewithall to suck it up." That being said, I should make an appointment with a doctor. But I am terrified of doing that - who wants to cut themselves open for someone to evaluate and analyze? Not me - besides, what if I uncover something that hadn't occured to me before? I don't mean some repressed abuse as a child - didn't happen. But what if I discover that I am even more inadequate than I already think I am - what if I have even more repulsive flaws than I originally thought? Frightening, to say the very least.
Anyway, back to the whole "Giving Thanks" concept. I guess hidden between the fear and the denial is guilt. Why should I be sad - I have so much in comparison to some people. The fact that I feel sad all the time is shameful. I have a great family (all the pants), a wonderful home, good friends, a dysfunctional family (mom and sibs) that is ridiculously entertaining and we are all healthy and safe. What the hell am I bitching about. The fact is, I do not know. At first, when this all began, it was like a big dark cloud. I assumed (incorrectly) that I must be sad all the time and crying every day because my marriage must not be working. Pants isn't romantic enough, he doesn't listen, I have no time for myself, etc and blah, blah. But after months of introspection, I painfully realized that it is I who has the problem. Yes, there are things I would like to alter slightly with respects to Pants, but no dealbreakers - he is a good man. The fact that stood, staring me in the face, was that I am the one who is inadequate. I was so busy trying to figure out the "reason" for the way I felt, that I was far too quick to blame us.
That mirrored reflection was startling and abrasive. So, I have been coming to grips with the fact that I may have what is considered a mental illness - it ain't easy. I am ashamed and embarrassed. The stigma, one which I helped perpetuate out of ignorance, is suffocating. Perhaps whan I do finally get in to talk to someone, some of that will be erased.
Okay, now again this giving thanks thing (bring it around town, spongebob). I am thankful that I have a husband who allows me to be so very and strangely suddenly fragile. He accepts this and has readily stepped up to help me. He is as in the dark as I am about this whole thing, so we will learn together. I know that I can lean on him and he will take care of me - my only real fear now is wondering for how long. I don't want him to be the man with the sick wife. So this weekend, I will give thanks that he is here - even if it is just for right now. Before this all gets ugly.
posted by Justin @ 9:28 PM
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