I’m depressed. Like, sad and down. I think too many things have built up and come together this weekend.
I had a fairly good week at work. I was mostly on my own managing, which was fine. Part of what’s wrong with me is that my partner returns Monday, and although I’m glad, it really is more pleasant minute by minute without her. Our boss’ boss wants to meet with us Monday. He’s talked about restructing and a plan of action but we don’t know what he has in mind. Whenever I perceive that my job is about to change, it makes me anxious. Selfishly, I’m always afraid that I won’t love what comes next as much as I’ve loved it up until now, and that I won’t be able to show up for a job I don’t love. At the same time I’ve lost a lot of my hope that change will bring something good, something better. I’ll have been at this place eleven years at the end of June. Sometimes when I hear inspiring words about trying again and learning from mistakes and going forward I feel that surge of hope again, and sometimes I give into it. I also know that these outward conditions cannot should not will not control the way I feel. The emotions that I bring to this need to be consistently good. One thing remains constant and that is the need of the people I serve and my joy in serving them.
Earlier in the week, Erika told me she plans on moving away, and I believe that she does and that she will and that she should. But God I will miss her and worry about her.
The weather has added to my pit. We had a few days of warm temps that were so cheering, then we were back into the deep freeze. Days are longer and sometimes they are even sunny, but still mostly cold and sometimes bitterly cold. An interesting thing about this climate and my relationship to it is that I did not choose it. I live here to live with Carole. But I really and truly think this is the best climate for me. I hate heat and I’ve lived in very hot places. I can stand cold much better than heat. And it doesn’t get very hot here for very long, but we still have the full season of summer. But even though I like it, and I know that spring will surely arrive soon, it’s depressing to me to think about putting on the heavy heavy coat again just to go outside, and to think about my muscles tensing up and clenching up and being cold cold cold.
Physically, my good humor (ha!) and ability to stand my never ending mentruation is leaving me. Interested parties can consult The Menopause Chronicles for the gory details, but mama never told me there would be weeks like this. That’s because my mama and most women I know of a certain age had hysterectomies. The books I’m reading think that is a shame, but I wonder how much the women authors bled. I’m as half hearted a feminist as anyone, and I had a subscription to Ms. magazine, and I tried to birth my babies without intervention (the first one anyway) and I breastfed them till they left for college, practially. But this is awful. Carole said tonight I should have a hysterectomy and have it over with. Thing is, how do I know it’s not going to stop tomorrow, for good, and major surgery would have saved me one day or one week or one month of blood? Same with taking hormones. Most of the time I’m brave, but not tonight, not this weekend. It’s wearing me out. And what makes it all so much more difficult is that I never know when it will come or how long it will last. I have hope that it will all only take a year or two, but it could be longer. It could be longer.
Then a friend was “guest” chairing my home group’s meeting tomorrow night. Last week she told us that she got a better offer and needed someone to fill in. I said I would. I’m a little put off by this, but the offer she got really was better, and she’s about the only one who helps the meeting out by guest chairing. So OK. Then Carole decided to go to an AA function that night, so she won’t be helping me with the chairing or the meeting. OK again. It truly never bothers me when she goes to things I don’t want to go to, but I’d rather not do the meeting “alone” even though lots of people will be there. But I often do it alone. Annoying this time but OK.
Then today around when I found out I’d be locking up the place at work, which was annoying, Carole asked me to do something on Sunday that I don’t want to do and that will take several hours. I balked and finally complained about the meeting Saturday night and now the Sunday stuff added in. I honestly found myself wishing it was Monday already although working Friday, having a weekend that is too full with unknown physical complications, then working again all next week was overwhelming me. When I let her know that she, as always, said I didn’t have to participate Sunday, although she wants me to. This is a depressing element of our relationship. We work with it pretty well but I can’t get past the fact that she wishes I was into this stuff and happy about it and wanting to do it right alongside her. Once she’s asked me and I’ve let on that I don’t want to, there is no solution that can make everything OK. Either I don’t participate and feel bad and give her bad feelings, or I do participate and give myself and her bad feelings about me really not wanting to.
I got home and she got home and we might have dealt with that, but then we got some bad news about Nicholas. He’s OK, for now, but he did something dangerous and it’s all very very frightening. Very frightening. After that had sunk in, she let me know about some negative feelings she has about something else I’m intending to do soon – something I’m looking forward to that now has a major damper on it.
And that’s about it for the moment. When we heard about Nicholas, Carole said something to me like, “What do you think?” And I said something like, “I think God is saying to me, ‘So you think you’re going to have a bad weekend? I’ll give you a bad weekend, you ungrateful twat.'” I don’t really think God said that or arranged these things, but as I was sinking into my hole I had the awareness that these are all, each and every single one, luxury problems of the highest order.
For my menopause problems, I have available to me some of the best medical treatment in the world, and for free. I have access to all the information in the world. And what’s happening to me is a normal part of aging, not something pathological.
My work and my work environment are blessed. I’m safe and comfortable there, and I’m able to use my body, mind and soul to their utmost. I work with some of the best people in the world.
My home group is wonderful. I love my meeting and the people who go to it. It’s so nearby it is no trouble to set it up and tear it down. It’s slightly different from most meetings around here, but people have embraced it. I like the regulars and, since it’s Saturday night, the people who come just a few times are interesting as well.
Nicholas is OK for now, and he also has all the resources of the world available to help him. That doesn’t mean he’ll be fine, not by any means, but so many mothers tonight are in so much pain over so many sons who were born just when he was. Some mothers have already lost those sons, others don’t know where they are, others watch them suffer.
Ultimately I have faith that Carole and I will work out our little problems, at least to some degree. I think we’re both old enough to understand and accept that it won’t be 100% meshed all the time in partnered bliss, and maybe that’s why we’ve lasted this long. Even given that, though, I think we’re both still here because we want to be. I know I am. I believe that our relationship will outlast all the little issues that get in our way today. I really want her there, should I be lucky enough to achieve old age.
So my years of AA have taught me how to spit out the positive side of each and every situation I confront, and I’m grateful. But tonight it really seems like way too much to bear in happy serenity. I’m very very sad, and a bit frightened, and I don’t intend to live in this mood, but it almost feels to me like I need to give into it for a little while in order to be able to come out of it.
I really don’t know.