So when things are really bad* I start berating myself for not getting out when all the signs were there and when I didn't have a child to consider.
I'd like to say that it's not fear that kept me in this relationship. I don't think I was afraid to be on my own. In fact I left my first marriage. It was hard but I did it. So I know that I can do it on my own and furthermore I know just how much fun that can actually be.
But maybe there's more to be afraid of than being alone. Maybe I was afraid to fail again. And maybe I was afraid that I wouldn't be lucky a third time in falling so deeply in love with someone. Or maybe I was even afraid of being left in the but-these-are-my-child-bearing-years lurch and not find someone in time to have kids.
All of that could have been a factor. But I'd like to think that main reason why I stayed is because I really loved** him. And also I thought I could handle it and I could change it and help him fix it.
Well, now I'm learning that I can't fix anything. It's all very Zen really isn't it? Well, except when I'm yelling and crying and plotting my escape down to how I'll organise the logistics of work and day care and the thousand other things that I already kind of organise.
Anyway, I still don't know if I regret staying with this person. Can I regret something while I'm still actively doing it? Because honestly, staying in this situation is not a passive activity. It takes a lot of energy almost every single day.
And then we have good days and I'm just so pathetically grateful for them and actually so genuinely happy that I start to look at my other self as if she's the crazy one.
Of course it's pretty clear to me now on the bad days that I stay because of my son.
I stay because my three-year-old tells me every other day that his dad is his best friend and he loves him so much and he doesn't want him to go to work because he misses him too much. I stay because my boy runs screaming with happiness into his dad's arms when he comes through the door at the end of the day.
I stay because they're allies and best mates and there is so much obvious love between them that I couldn't contemplate taking away that daily interaction.
It's quite definitely the best thing in my partner's life and often his only reason to keep living.
So while I don't regret the existence of this family, I can very definitely say that I regret a few steps along the way:
1) Moving in together quickly
I think if we lived separately it would be much easier for me to maintain an emotional distance from his depression. I'd have my own space that could be a happy one. It's not that I wouldn't feel bad for him, but I wouldn't have to feel bad with him as well.
2) Taking on domestic responsibilities
I wish I'd laid down the law about domestic responsibility early, before our finances became entangled. Then I could have said something like: You do A, B and C or you pay someone to do A, B and C.
3) Putting up with being spoken to (or not spoken to) in certain ways
I wish that I had walked out of the house the first time he raised his voice or was unresponsive. I wish that I hadn't been so damned understanding and conciliatory and that I had... well, actually I still don't know what I could have done there.
4) Gradually circumscribing my behaviour so as not to rock the boat and upset him by continuing to socialise and maintain friendships
This is my biggest regret. I wish that I had ignored his disapproval when I made plans to go out; that I had continued to go out when I wanted to, as often as I wanted to; that he would have been forced to articulate whatever he thought was wrong with that so I could reassure him of my feelings and continue on with who I was.
What about you? Any particular or general regrets? Anything that you feel you could actually still turn around?
Flo
*This can also mean when I haven't had any caffeine or when I've had too much.
**Love/loved? Grammatical tense depends on the day you're asking.
Regrets are a burden that I don't want to carry. I've done it in the past, but never found where there was any benefit in doing so.
ReplyDeleteI've turned a lot of things around, but none as important as me. I've never been forced to stay, or accept any of the things that depression bring, so my misery is self-inflicted if I'm miserable.
There are important things to be learned about life, and depression has brought many important lessons on patience, compassion, love and growth. The changes in me have been for the good, but it was my responsibility to find, and make the changes.
I, too, regret moving in together. My relationship with my depressed spouse worked much, much better when we had separate dwellings within walking distance of each other. When he had his own place, he was responsible for his own rent and living expenses, for his own meals, for his own house-cleaning, for looking after his child (he has almost-full-time custody of a child from a previous relationship) and elderly parents, etc. etc. -- all of which, now that we share a home, he increasingly leaves up to me when he goes down.
ReplyDeleteAnd, like you, raising a child together (even if the child isn't biologically mine) makes it very hard to walk away now. Our lives are too entangled.
On good days, it feels okay, I'm determined to be strong and brave and loyal, and I maintain my hope that my husband is slowly getting better. On a good day, he's sweet and he makes me laugh, and I can see the child blossoming with me around as a steady, calm presence. But on a bad day....when my husband won't get out of bed (much less feed the kid or look for work or answer his elderly parents' phone calls), on those days I feel exhausted and stuck, stuck, stuck, trapped in a life that is swallowing me whole.
To be fair, when I married I knew I was taking on a child and not just a man. But I didn't know that my man would become so depressed that I'd have to be Mother and Father both to the kid; nor did I know that the child's own mother also had a hidden substance abuse problem that would lead her to abdicate most of her own parental duties practically as soon as the ink was dry on my marriage certificate, leaving all of the finances and most of the practicalities of raising the child to us (in other words, to me). It's a very different marriage than the one I signed on for. I thought I was marrying and equal partner, and have found myself with a sick husband, his child, his parents, and even his ex dependent on me. How did I get here? (The answer? Step by step by tiny step....)
On the plus side, the child is a lovely human being whom I've genuinely come to love. That's what I hang on to.
I really related to these words of yours:
"Staying in this situation is not a passive activity. It takes a lot of energy almost every single day."
Yes, that's it exactly.