Surfacing… November 22 2008
My husband and I had an interesting conversation yesterday.
As you may know, I recently had a bout of depression…and a year ago I finally went and did something about it. And gradually things got better.
In my egocentric pit of dispare I didn’t once think of how it could be effectng others. No, that is not entirely true, I knew it was effecting the children. I KNOW I was a less than stellar mom a summer ago, and possibly the year before that.
I knew it and know it and have uber amounts of guilt to go with it.
However, I never even once considered Chris. I swear to god, not even a thought about him. Only to blame him for EVERYTHING and pick one fight after another. Horrible, irrational fights.
Gawd.
Anyway, we were discussing the rise and fall of his restaurant yesterday (someone recently tried to get him to open another one with them as a partner.) and he said something to the effect of if I wasn’t so bat shit crazy we would’ve had a better shot.
And I immedatley asked him if he was ACTUALLY blaming me for the failure of his restaurant. (GAH!)
No no, he said he was willing to take at least 50% of the blame, but I should man up and take the other 50% (I have ALWAYS blamed him).
No no I said, NOT my fault, that restaurant died because of mismanagement.
Why yes! He agreed, but YOU were supposed to be doing the MANAGING! But you were always SO angry when you came in and decided early on the you couldn’t deal with the books and paperwork and the employee stuff.
Oh, yeah.
And that converation led to a discussion of my depression in general.
And this line actually came out of his mouth “if you hadn’t of gotten yourself medicated when you did I probably would’ve left shortly after”.
Oh.
Cause all that time I sort of thought it was his fault I was depressed and thought about leaving him. (but you know, us depressive types often lack gumption)
And then he said it had been going on for a lot longer than a year or two.
He thinks before we moved up here, when I was running like a lunatic I was losing my shit, but I was running all the time and not really dealing with anything at home. Other than the day to day stuff with children, when he got home, I left.
So, true.
He lived with a lunatic for like 4 years.
WTF? He said he tried to help for a long time, and he did….looking back..he really did, but I don’t listen.
And it kind of came down to a minor agrument we had not long ago, where it came out that I thought he just didn’t give a shit. He stopped fuming and said “Seriously? If I didn’t give a shit do you think I would still be here? SERIOUSLY?!”
And now I get it.
Fuck.
I’m not saying he’s saint (pahlease!). But I’m saying that I kind of treated him like shit sometimes. A lot of times. Seriously, I took it all out on him.
Wow.
Like a revelation or something.
We’ve been together 15 yrs.
This past year, I think has been mending us.
And right now, today…I am not talking about next year or next month or next week even. Right now today we are in a good spot. And he’s gotten out all this crap that has piled up for 4 years.
Four years!
I worry though, that it;s effected the kids in ways we’ll never know. Don’t get me wrong I wasn’t mommy dearest…but I was not the most patient or the most rational and it totally came out in the behaviour of the kids at home.
Looking back…wow….even reading blog posts from 07.
ouch.
Anyway onward and upward!
