Monday, June 21, 2010

I'm Blowing It

Posted by Anonymous.

I'm blowing it. My life. I'm blowing my life. At least that is how I feel today. I should be happy, I'm 28 and just bought my first house. I did it by myself. My boyfriend didn't help a bit, even though he makes double the money I do. That is the problem, my boyfriend is a nice guy and a good provider. The issue is he only provides for what he deems important. I, on the other hand, work hard, at a job that I greatly dislike most of the time, to provide for everything else.

I was raised with a slower pace of doing things. To me nothing has be to perfect right now, just so long as I am happy with what I have. I grew up with far less than I have now, but I think I was happier then. I've never cared about the newest this or that, or the most expensive. It's always was been about being comfortable in my life. Well, I'm not comfortable anymore. I am exhausted. He is exhausting. When I get home from a long day of work, he wants me to unpack or clean up or hang things. I want to lay down. When I tell him that I am exhausted he mocks me or makes a half joking comment that I am lazy. From there I tend to shut down. It's not fair. I work very hard, I deserve to be happy. I'm blowing it. I should be enjoying my freedom, not dreading going home to my new house because someone is going to nag me to death.

I know this is a very childish thing to complain about, I get it. There are many people in the world with much bigger problems. l am just exhausted and drained and tired of being tired. I want my chance to live happily ever after. I don't think I will get it.

Friday, June 18, 2010

A Life In Tatters

Posted by Anonymous.

We've been together for over 14 years, we own our own flat, we have two beautiful, wonderful little girls and the world's best cat. We've had our ups and downs, and yes, 2009 will certainly go down as one of the all time crap years - you got almost no work all year and we had two huge, unexpected purchases to make (over 18,000 € in total). Money is tight, so tight it's suffocating us, and you're still looking for work but having a really hard time finding it. I know all that.

But I don't know what to do when you start laying all the blame on me, when you start accusing me of a million vile, untrue things (you've been having headaches and ringing in your ears, and somehow this is a sign that I've been "doing something" to harm you, poison you, drive you mad; you've accused me of taking drugs, of being a tyrant, a hypocrit, a compulsive and pathological liar, of sleeping with our computer maintenance guy, of picking up men from internet dating sites, of sleeping with any number of men (of being a prostitute, in a way, but an unpaid one apparently), of being a compulsive internet gamer, of being insane...). It's all untrue, but you refuse to believe me. You insist that I be frank and honest and sincere, but when I am, you refuse to believe me. You've become Dr Jekyll - kind, considerate, affectionate, just like you used to be way back in the beginning - and Mr Hyde, accusing me of horrible, horrible things, saying (as you did this afternoon, in front of our friends, our children) that "I can't be with her right now, it's physical", saying you have to move out, even though financially that's just not a possibility while you have no income and I only have debts. You are destroying me, slowly, painfully.

Our younger daughter turned 6 last Tuesday and is having her birthday party tomorrow afternoon. I've been trying so goddam hard to hold things together to make her special day, her special party day, happy for her. But it's so hard. You give me hope, you talk sensibly and positively and then, the next day, BANG, you destroy it all again.

Right now, I hate you but I know, deep down, I love you like I always have. I'll never find it easy to forgive and forget all the hateful things you've said and done these last few weeks (the bitch slap in front of our elder daughter "I'm not saying why you deserve it because you know perfectly well" when of course I don't know (I should point out, to be fair, that you have never, ever hurt me before, this really was the first time) will be particularly hard to forgive and forget, as will the accusation that I'm trying to harm you physically), but I'll try. Just like I forgave (though didn't forget, I admit) your infidelities at the start of our relationship.

Ever since we've been together, I've been honest, faithful and supportive. I've worked like a slave to keep our heads above water (you did the lion's share of the household stuff, and I could never have worked as hard as I have without your help, I'm not denying that, or denigrating it, I appreciate it, but assumed it was just your role in the team I thought - wrongly, apparently - we were), I've done nothing but my best for us as a couple, a family.

You are now throwing it all away, on the basis of "facts" that you refuse to admit are false. I'm worried for your mental health, I'm worried about where this will all end. We live a long way away from the small amount of family I have, and almost as far from my two closest friends, so I feel horribly alone and totally unsure of what to do next.

I have to keep it together for tomorrow, I have cakes to make and goodie bags to prepare, I want our little girl to have a fun party, without you ruining everything by accusing me of something untrue in front of everyone. But I'm so scared, so very scared.

You're now talking about alternating custody, and that breaks my heart too. You refuse to go and see a counselor ("what for? You'd tell him your side, I'd tell him mine, it wouldn't get us anywhere"), you refuse to see a psychiatrist ("why? You're the one who needs psychiatric help!"), we just go round in circles.

I'm scared, I'm in pain, I'm alone and I'm more miserable than I've been in years.

I wish I knew what to do.

Wednesday, June 09, 2010

How Did I Get Here?

Posted by Anonymous.

Growing up, success came fairly easily. Mostly 'A' report cards, co-Captain of the Pom Squad, Scholarship to college. Even college continued mostly along that line -- even the bumps in the road could be overcome with a little extra work.

Ever since then it's been downhill. First job after college I left after 2 years because I bombed. The next jobs were ok, so I thought things were getting back on track. Got married, had a child. Started on anti-anxiety meds for stress. Started to get more depressed and anxious. It started to effect my job. Marriage hit a major rough patch. Upped the meds. More struggles at work. Baby number 2 arrived and my depression ballooned into a hideous monster. Started therapy and what became the long process of more and more medication. That was 6 years ago. My job is in trouble, my marriage is in trouble, and my life is a mess.

My dad was a high functioning alcoholic. My mom is the classic "enabler" - sweeping everything under the rug. I'm the classic "Adult Child of an Alcoholic," constantly "people pleasing." I almost wish I were an alcoholic because then I would have a problem that can be solved --You can stop drinking (or taking drugs, or stealing). It's within your control --at least to a point.
With depression like this, there is no control. One minute things are going along Ok --then for the next 10 days you have no energy, stare into space and have no concentration.

I used to have a phenomenal memory. I could keep all sorts of appointments and scheduling in my head. Now I can barely remember things long enough to write them down. I have a pile of "reminders" to go through --many of which have passed the deadline by the time I get to them.

I used to be happy and bouncy. I used to have tons of self confidence. I feel like a shell of what I was.

People say, just focus on being happy. Just focus on getting things done. They don't realize I can't focus -- my brain is set on a loop of negative feedback.

So, how did I get here? How did I go from over-achieving to "holding onto my job by my fingertips?" And is there any way back up out of this pit?