I heaved a sigh last night, when I was in the bathroom getting ready for bed. My husband asked me what was wrong. I answered and told him I had nothing to look forward to today. Nothing except cleaning the house and minding kids.

You're depressed, he said.

– You think?

What I do know is that any form of passion for life seems to have flown right out the window. In the back of my head I'm writing posts filled with frustration and rage. Over those posts a layer of guilt is pasted. Guilt for feeling the way I do. For wanting to take escape.

I'm not tired of life perse, I'm tired of THIS life. I have visions of freedom, of doing my own thing, of not being worn down by the continual presence of spoken and unspoken demands. Demands on my time, my attention, my capabilities. They eat at me, leaving behind an empty shell with nothing left to give.

I don't like this me. Don't like feeling this way. Frantically I try to place my life in perspective. I have a home, a husband who loves me, kids who love me, friends and family who care.

But it doesn't help. So then my old friend guilt returns to me and tells me I'm ungrateful and should be ashamed.

When we moved, I hoped we had entered a new phase of our lives. A phase in which love would reign in our family, new beginnings could be made and a new life could be started. Instead I find myself weighted down by unmet expectations. By hopes that have been trodden on, dreams that have not come true. We are who we are, and we packed ourselves as well as our household when we came here. Dysfunction didn't get put out with the trash, it travelled right with us, and it's weaving its insidious way into our family as I write.

And I am incapable of stopping it.

There are always two ways of looking at things. Is your cup half empty or half full? What words do you chose when you tell somebody how you're doing? What words do you chose when you write? It's all in the presentation. You decide what to bring to the foreground, and what to leave unmentioned.

I want to mention the unmentionable. I want to uncover my dark side, get the demons out of my closet, from underneath my bed, put into words the depth of desperation that sometimes clutches at my soul.

I don't need platitudes. I don't need to hear it's the weather.

What I do need to hear is that this is ok. That I'm not a bad mother or a bad wife for feeling the way I do. I need to know that I am loved, even when I tell you about the nasty part of me. And I need to be given room. Room to be me, not someone elses idea of me.

Maybe then I'll be able to see what I have, instead of what I don't.

9 reacties:

Anonymous said...

Wow dear Marit!!! Onwards and forwards and you are great, you should know my dark side...Everybody has it! I will give you a big fat ole TS tomorrow, right night I have to attend to my screaming daughter!! Love you dear

Renzo said...

Marit didi,
Beautifully written and very honest.
Come get some R&R at my place for a few days, eat some curry, read some books, meditate a bit if you like and enjoy a good conversation or two. My door is open!

Anonymous said...


A Touch of Dutch said...

Oh Marit :-( I know how you feel. I've been having this lately.. Very same feelings. But it's great at these times to fall into the arms of those loved ones around us. Your husband, children and friends will be a great comfort. Do take as much time for yourself each day, and don't ever feel as though you need to explain yourself to people during these times. I'm not a master of advice, but I've learned those who truly care will understand you were perhaps too exhausted to explain yourself. Since I am going through this now myself, it means a lot to me if people just give me my space, but I do understand some people have it differently and won't understand. But I wish for you the very best in the New Year! I'm cutting back on my blogs which I follow since I can't keep up with many anymore, but your's will for sure remain on my list!

Again, I wish you a very Happy New Year :-)

Anonymous said...

I don't really know you, but I can tell you this much. If there's a person who has had a very big impact on my life the past 3 weeks or so, it is you. From what I've read and seen, you're far from being anywhere near a bad person and you shouldn't feel guilty for having those feelings. Get a private journal and write if you need to, from one person with similar feelings to another, I can tell you it helps.
My inbox is always open if you want to use it, after all you know my darkest secrets which no one else knows and in many ways, I am glad you stumbled upon them.
Take care of yourself.

Big Mama said...

I have been feeling a little of the feeling you so aptly described lately. *despair* And to hear you are feeling it too actually encourages me. Is that awful?
For me I think it is an expectation of unreal proportions. There is no total functional family is there really? Only what every family projects to their unsuspecting public. The family mask. The 'church face', which I hate, and try at all cost NOT to project because it really is an evil thing, I think. So important to be honest at least with the people close to us.
I just saw a movie that made me feel like a total flp as an extended family. *Dan in Real Life* Dan's personal and immediate family life is a mess, but his relastionship with his extended family and all the amazing Christmas traditions they get up to together is exhausting and discouraging to every other family in this planet!
Sooo unrealistic.
So Marit, I am praying for strength and courage for you in this area of family, and please if you ever think of it, pray for me, half way around the globe, facing similar stresses. But I do pray that any dysfunction that you are aware of and are consciously trying to leave behind, does turn tail and head for the hills. x0

formerly fun said...

Women do the bulk of the work, the loving, doing, taking care of and tying up ends no matter how helpful our mates are. I think there's too much pressure to love it every day, never complain, never ask is this it, what else. So when you're actually human and asking all those tough questions it can make you feel bad just asking, nevermind the answers.

As women not only do we do so much but we put a brave face on like it's not work and sacrifice. And then we don't talk about the other side of motherhood and wifedom. So then when you have the what ifs or the impulse to crawl into an empty space, ignore the kids, put off the husband and write or dream or watch trashy tv, you feel like a bad person.

This is why I think so many women are depressed or medicated, not enough people tell the truth. It isn't easy, it isn't all happy sacrifices and oh, my children's accomplishments fill me up, my husband's gratitude is enough... Go easy on yourself, take heart that you're not the only one and for god sake, be yourself, exactly who you are and the rest will surely follow.

It's fine to be glass full rather than glass empty, I do think that how your shape your issues can have a large impact on the outcome but acknowledging a 'bad' feeling or circumstance can be a relief to, and then you can get on with fixing it with a smile. Good luck and happy new year.

Francine said...

' What I do need to hear is that this is ok.'

It is ok. It really is. And it will pass, too, at some point.

Good luck to you. And happy enw year!

IncredeMom said...

Here I am depressed myself, & I desided to read a few of your blog post to take my mind off my troubles, not realizing that you, one of my most cherished friends I have is feeling almost identical to the way I am right now! WOW! I felt like I was reading words that came from my own head!.

I have been wanting to find a closet in my house, take a flashlight, blanket, pillow, & a book & just hide in there for hoursssss, just like I did when I was little when thing's weren't going well at home.

You and me, I know we are okay. Even normal. It is okay to feel the thing's you are. It certainly is better than feeling nothing at all, right?!

And for the record, I am one of those friends who LOVES YOU VERY MUCH. I am always here, unconditionally.

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