This...might get weird. I'll be talking about depression and suicide ahead, and while I am in no current danger, it's just a heads up.
Aug 12, 2014
May 3, 2013
Depression and Marriage
I've been struggling with depression since I was 14. It rears it's head frequently, and keeps me from acting, or feeling/showing emotions other than sadness. This last bout began December of 2011, and it took me about a month to seek treatment. Since then, I've seen 3 different therapists, and tried about 7-8 medications for depression and anxiety. It's ruined relations with my wife, and distanced my family. I've withdrawn from everything I enjoy, using work and videogames as a management strategy to keep the worst at bay.
We're under financial stress. Our apartment is too expensive for us to continue living in,rent being close to 45% of my income. She feels incredible guilt for not contributing, even though work is beyond her physically.
But my wife can't take it any more. My inaction has made her feel unwanted, unappreciated, and unloved. She holds my inaction and occasional thoughtlessness against me, and hasn't forgiven me for transgressions that go back 7 years or more. She also believes she has nowhere else to go, having completely cut off her family, and hates herself for staying with me and using me for health insurance and money since her disease has left her unable to work. In January she said she only has a certain amount of time left for me to turn my behavior around. We're now reaching that point, and I'm still borderline suicidal on maximum doses of antidepressants. She's mad at me, mad at her, and I can do nothing except be paralyzed with guilt and sorrow. She views my inaction as an indication I don't love her enough to overcome this disease. I counter with the facts about depression, and how it saps the ability to act. We've had this fight many times.
Last night we talked about it, and she went into the bedroom mad, and said "I don't want to be around you". I slept stretched between our two chairs, with the cats. Woke, showered, she was still in the bedroom with the door shut. I went to work, feeling defeated. I long ago gave up on being happy myself, so I've been trying to make her happy. I can't seem to manage that except for short bursts, and certainly not with the passion and romance she needs.
I'm losing her. I don't know what to do, if it would be kinder to separate or keep on with her trapped and frustrated and venting at me frequently.
We're under financial stress. Our apartment is too expensive for us to continue living in,rent being close to 45% of my income. She feels incredible guilt for not contributing, even though work is beyond her physically.
But my wife can't take it any more. My inaction has made her feel unwanted, unappreciated, and unloved. She holds my inaction and occasional thoughtlessness against me, and hasn't forgiven me for transgressions that go back 7 years or more. She also believes she has nowhere else to go, having completely cut off her family, and hates herself for staying with me and using me for health insurance and money since her disease has left her unable to work. In January she said she only has a certain amount of time left for me to turn my behavior around. We're now reaching that point, and I'm still borderline suicidal on maximum doses of antidepressants. She's mad at me, mad at her, and I can do nothing except be paralyzed with guilt and sorrow. She views my inaction as an indication I don't love her enough to overcome this disease. I counter with the facts about depression, and how it saps the ability to act. We've had this fight many times.
Last night we talked about it, and she went into the bedroom mad, and said "I don't want to be around you". I slept stretched between our two chairs, with the cats. Woke, showered, she was still in the bedroom with the door shut. I went to work, feeling defeated. I long ago gave up on being happy myself, so I've been trying to make her happy. I can't seem to manage that except for short bursts, and certainly not with the passion and romance she needs.
I'm losing her. I don't know what to do, if it would be kinder to separate or keep on with her trapped and frustrated and venting at me frequently.
Nov 28, 2012
Tundra Tales: Part 2
So, the second day of travel.
Waking around 10ish, we started to make sense of what was left to do, and had a lovely conversation with the crazy B&B owner, who is a climate change denier and frequently sleeps out with her sheep in the shed.
Everything outside is drenched, leaves are yellow and coming down, but the worst of the storm has passed. Our goal was Tok, about 6 to 7 hours ahead. The drive was gorgeous, passing by glaciers, following the Matanuska River up into the mountains, then down into the Copper River Delta. Unfortunately, the road was very rough, and just outside of Glenallen we hit a bad bump hidden in a puddle and our check engine light came on. We limp into the gas station in Glenallen (there are only 2), and check everything. The jeep is running a little rough, but nothing is obviously wrong. I ask the attendant if there was anywhere in town we could get it checked out, and he tells me nobody in town has the sensor to hook up to the engines computer, but that the mechanic will be in tomorrow and can look at it. Or we can drive 2 more hours to Tok, and get it looked at there.
That was an incredibly stressful 2 hours, along a bumpy road, the roof flexing at every jostle from the weight of the carrier, and me entering a full panic mode. Still beautiful, and the clouds have lifted, but hard to enjoy when something is wrong and we might not make our ferry ($1500 ticket going to waste looming, and about that same price in gas and lodging and another 4 days of driving if we miss the boat).
We get into Tok around 6ish, and are too exhausted and stressed to do much, so we find a hotel room, set an alarm for 2am (The northern lights were supposed to be fantastic that night), eat and fall right to sleep. Next thing we know it's 9am, the power had gone off in the night, and we have 8 more hours of driving to do before being at the ferry at 6pm AND figure out what's wrong with the car. We run around to a few different places and one finally has a computer to tell us the #5 cylinder is sparking to the boot (it came loose and got some water into it). This means it's been dumping un-ignited gasoline into the cylinder for the last 2-3 hours of driving. They tell me they can't fix it for another 2 hours, which means we miss the boat, so we try 2 other places in town, then come back to the first place where they unplug the wire, plug it back in, and suddenly it's working again. We haul ass to Haines, through the Yukon territory, with gorgeous scenery and weather, and make it right before the boat starts loading.
We have sunny weather the whole way down, but it's hard to let the stress of the past week go. To be continued in Part 3, sailing the inside passage!
Waking around 10ish, we started to make sense of what was left to do, and had a lovely conversation with the crazy B&B owner, who is a climate change denier and frequently sleeps out with her sheep in the shed.
Everything outside is drenched, leaves are yellow and coming down, but the worst of the storm has passed. Our goal was Tok, about 6 to 7 hours ahead. The drive was gorgeous, passing by glaciers, following the Matanuska River up into the mountains, then down into the Copper River Delta. Unfortunately, the road was very rough, and just outside of Glenallen we hit a bad bump hidden in a puddle and our check engine light came on. We limp into the gas station in Glenallen (there are only 2), and check everything. The jeep is running a little rough, but nothing is obviously wrong. I ask the attendant if there was anywhere in town we could get it checked out, and he tells me nobody in town has the sensor to hook up to the engines computer, but that the mechanic will be in tomorrow and can look at it. Or we can drive 2 more hours to Tok, and get it looked at there.
That was an incredibly stressful 2 hours, along a bumpy road, the roof flexing at every jostle from the weight of the carrier, and me entering a full panic mode. Still beautiful, and the clouds have lifted, but hard to enjoy when something is wrong and we might not make our ferry ($1500 ticket going to waste looming, and about that same price in gas and lodging and another 4 days of driving if we miss the boat).
We get into Tok around 6ish, and are too exhausted and stressed to do much, so we find a hotel room, set an alarm for 2am (The northern lights were supposed to be fantastic that night), eat and fall right to sleep. Next thing we know it's 9am, the power had gone off in the night, and we have 8 more hours of driving to do before being at the ferry at 6pm AND figure out what's wrong with the car. We run around to a few different places and one finally has a computer to tell us the #5 cylinder is sparking to the boot (it came loose and got some water into it). This means it's been dumping un-ignited gasoline into the cylinder for the last 2-3 hours of driving. They tell me they can't fix it for another 2 hours, which means we miss the boat, so we try 2 other places in town, then come back to the first place where they unplug the wire, plug it back in, and suddenly it's working again. We haul ass to Haines, through the Yukon territory, with gorgeous scenery and weather, and make it right before the boat starts loading.
We have sunny weather the whole way down, but it's hard to let the stress of the past week go. To be continued in Part 3, sailing the inside passage!
Oct 27, 2012
Epics without Orcs: Part 1
So, since the last post I've changed offices (not jobs or company), moved 2700 miles, spent nearly all my money, and have been without a safety net. I'm jealous of friends travelling Europe and South America, but I'm very happy to finally have a working home kitchen again (for relative values of working).
This has been a soft landing after TMFH (the move from hell). I'm going to sketch out the details and troubles of the past month and a half. I'm not doing this to complain, or compare, I just want to set it down before it becomes one big repressed blur of worry and pain.
August - lots of preparations done to move have been discussed, planned out, and purchased. We had a lot of packing to do, but we had planned on a month and a half to get it done in. Charlie has begun to recognize soy in all its forms as a horrible migraine trigger, and is trying to plan on taking all the food we will need for the trip. We've had to stop eating at some of our favorite restaurants in Anchorage because of the soy problem.
Beginning of September -
Then we both got sick. Charlie got a weeklong migraine and I wasn't much better with sinus crud. Our planned schedule fell off. This left us a week or so to catch up. Both of us have learned not to push too hard against illness, since it prolongs it and makes it significantly worse (especially for Charlie).
Second week - mad scramble to complete all my promised workload (I worked right up until Friday at 2ish), and get things packed/donated/organized/cleaned.
Friday before the move, our wonderful friends have a party for us, and it was amazingly bittersweet, and fun, and a great send off. We get home at 12:30am, pack until 2:30am, sleep for 2 hours, and are up and going again by 5:30am.
Saturday (also, my 30th birthday) - We overslept an hour. Charlie rested a bit here and there, but we were both packing like mad fiends. Noon was our target 'out the door time', and when we had coordinated with the landlord to be out by. By 8am it's pretty clear we're not going to make it, so we call the landlord and ask for a short extension. At 10am, we hit up our favorite breakfast venue for the last time, and dropped off a very full car of donations to the Ark of Anchorage. We're back at cleaning and packing by noon, but still nowhere near done. At 3pm I call and ask the landlord for another hour or so, and when he comes by at 5pm, we're still scrubbing. He says to leave the keys and things on the kitchen counter, and lock up after ourselves.
Fast forward....11pm we're finally loading the car. There is a storm coming in to town, rain, cold, winds above 65 mph. I'm packing a rooftop carrier, Charlie is doing the last loading. Only it doesn't all fit. So we unpack and try again. and again. and again. Eventually, at 2am we take five boxes and a suitcase to the fed-ex, then return, load eeeeverything, and make our escape.
We'd booked a room at the best rated B&B in Palmer (45 minutes further along our way out of Alaska), but driving through the night at 3-4AM, through dark, wind, branches, and moose. There were no lights on, but our door was unlocked. We washed and slept briefly, Anchorage behind us.
This has been a soft landing after TMFH (the move from hell). I'm going to sketch out the details and troubles of the past month and a half. I'm not doing this to complain, or compare, I just want to set it down before it becomes one big repressed blur of worry and pain.
August - lots of preparations done to move have been discussed, planned out, and purchased. We had a lot of packing to do, but we had planned on a month and a half to get it done in. Charlie has begun to recognize soy in all its forms as a horrible migraine trigger, and is trying to plan on taking all the food we will need for the trip. We've had to stop eating at some of our favorite restaurants in Anchorage because of the soy problem.
Beginning of September -
Then we both got sick. Charlie got a weeklong migraine and I wasn't much better with sinus crud. Our planned schedule fell off. This left us a week or so to catch up. Both of us have learned not to push too hard against illness, since it prolongs it and makes it significantly worse (especially for Charlie).
Second week - mad scramble to complete all my promised workload (I worked right up until Friday at 2ish), and get things packed/donated/organized/cleaned.
Friday before the move, our wonderful friends have a party for us, and it was amazingly bittersweet, and fun, and a great send off. We get home at 12:30am, pack until 2:30am, sleep for 2 hours, and are up and going again by 5:30am.
Saturday (also, my 30th birthday) - We overslept an hour. Charlie rested a bit here and there, but we were both packing like mad fiends. Noon was our target 'out the door time', and when we had coordinated with the landlord to be out by. By 8am it's pretty clear we're not going to make it, so we call the landlord and ask for a short extension. At 10am, we hit up our favorite breakfast venue for the last time, and dropped off a very full car of donations to the Ark of Anchorage. We're back at cleaning and packing by noon, but still nowhere near done. At 3pm I call and ask the landlord for another hour or so, and when he comes by at 5pm, we're still scrubbing. He says to leave the keys and things on the kitchen counter, and lock up after ourselves.
Fast forward....11pm we're finally loading the car. There is a storm coming in to town, rain, cold, winds above 65 mph. I'm packing a rooftop carrier, Charlie is doing the last loading. Only it doesn't all fit. So we unpack and try again. and again. and again. Eventually, at 2am we take five boxes and a suitcase to the fed-ex, then return, load eeeeverything, and make our escape.
We'd booked a room at the best rated B&B in Palmer (45 minutes further along our way out of Alaska), but driving through the night at 3-4AM, through dark, wind, branches, and moose. There were no lights on, but our door was unlocked. We washed and slept briefly, Anchorage behind us.
Sep 4, 2012
It's been an exciting few weeks. A great mix of friends, car troubles, anxiety, and apartment hunting. I've been coming off one medicine, but I feel like the stress of this move is getting to me. I still haven't been able finalize an apartment (anything with a credit check is terrifying after years of medical debt). I have a short list, but still haven't one that meets all our preferences. I'd really rather not get trapped like we did moving to Seattle, but we've got much better tools for finding a place now than during that move. Between walkscore, padmapper, and placeofmine I've been able to put together a short list, and ensure they're within close enough to work/groceries, and not in high crime areas. Just need to contact them and confirm somethings, then decide which of our preferences we can compromise on.
It doesn't help that for the past few weeks I've been dizzy and fatigued. I'm not sure if this is brought on by stress or illness, but pseudoephedrine and mucinex seem to help with the worst of it. Of course, those knock me out, so that doesn't help with getting things done.
On the plus side, we've really pared down what we're bringing with us, and picked up a roof top carrier that will hold almost all the clothes. The ferry is booked, the cat's flight and the shipment of supplies are booked, everything in my slowly failing hard drive has been backed up onto an external, we have all the gear we'll need to sleep on the boat, the couch is at the dump, and I've got a good checklist of next steps going.
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