My sisters used to kid with me all the time when I was younger, telling me that I was a hypochondriac who was always self diagnosing. I remember it began when my sister's teacher died of a brain aneurysm, after having seen her the prior day. From that point on, I would have thoughts of having a brain tumor whenever I got a headache - or that my appendix had exploded when I had a pain in my stomach - a heart attack (at 12, mind you) whenever I felt anything in my chest...or that any internal pain was some sort of rotting cancer eating away at my insides! It was all in jest for the most part...deep down inside, I didn't really believe that I was dying of anything, but just coping with the fact that I was not invincible--that, I too, was subject to disease, illness and death.
Now here I am, however many years later, and I think this time I am slowly but surely facing an ugly truth about me. I believe I may be suffering from some form of depression. It's been 4 months since I had my daughter. My son is approaching his "oh so terrible" twos, and to put it simply, I feel like CRAP. My crying episodes are becoming more frequent. I find myself crying more and more often at the drop of a dime: usually while I am in our apartment, in the bathroom, as I am washing dishes or watching TV. I cannot control it as much as I used to, despite trying my best. My mind feels loaded...I am constantly thinking. I feel useless, worthless, unloved, hopeless, fatigued, unattractive and like a complete, total and utter failure as a mother, wife, daughter, sister and Christian.
My husband and I just recently came out of one of the longest episodes where we didn't speak to one another for what felt like an eternity (it could have been 2 weeks or so). I have been trying so hard to have a positive outlook on things. I am not usually the one to initiate conversation with him after a fight, but I did. I basically let him know, in my own little way, that there were some things I needed to get out. I started off by asking him what interested him. For the longest time, I feel like I have been at the bottom of that list and he has taken no interest in me as a wife and the mother of his two children. I feel like he is so excited whenever his cell phone rings (he walks around with it everywhere and is constantly looking at it) but he barely has any conversations with me other than the typical questions about the kids and other basic "formalities". He was very defensive, wanting to know why I was asking that question. To make a long story short(er), we had a conversation about it and for a fleeting moment, I thought things were going to be okay. Prior to that conversation even taking place, I tried to go about things differently. I left him a little note in his backpack, expressing to him how much I love him. I started saying "I love you" before hanging up or walking out of the door again...greeted him with a kiss whenever I got home. I let things that would have otherwise bothered me slide without uttering a peep. I even started showing him more support and encouragement about his going to school as often as I could. I thought these things would help bring back passion and a deeper sense of love in our marriage, but realize it is not.
I am starting to feel like everything is one sided. During our "talk" my husband kept telling me that people can forgive, but will never "forget", referring to things I have said to him in the heat of an argument. He claims that he never talks out of character and that I am always the first one to blow up at him. And after blowing up at him, there are things that he simply cannot forget. But what about me? How does he think I feel? Does he really believe that my "short-temperedness" (according to him) is the root of all the problems in our marriage? Does he seriously believe that???
I can sense that things are different. Whatever little love my husband had for me is gone. I feel like I am grasping at straws to be loved, to be asked "how I am doing", to be told that I am beautiful, to be treated like his life partner and the mother of his two children. Yet is all seems so artificial. Every kiss, every hug, every physical interaction seems only necessary to fill some physical obligation.
My husband has been seeing me cry lately. As I mentioned before, my crying fits are becoming increasingly difficult to control. What he usually does when he sees me crying is say, "sa ou gen la" which means "what is wrong with you". The tone of his question lacks complete compassion and when I shake my head or say "nothing", he doesn't press to know if something is going on. He just moves on and seems more annoyed that I was crying in the first place.
Today, after leaving work really late and picking up the kids, I finally got home with them and settled down for what I was hoping to be a relaxing Friday evening. I had a rough week and by the time I sat down at the computer to check my email, I felt like my head was ready to explode. It didn't help that my son was jumping up and down all over the living room, causing the apartment to vibrate. The neighbors downstairs were banging on the ceiling again. I kept trying to tell my son to stop jumping, but my husband reproached me saying, "let him jump even harder" and that he wanted him to make even more noise. I responded to him that this wasn't about the stupid neighbors downstairs, but about the fact that I simply could not take the noise anymore! His wanting to show the neighbors up for banging on the ceiling by having my son make even more noise was not helping his tired wife who just came from a long day at work. I told him I was not feeling well and got up to go to my room to lie down.
As I lay on the bed, the thoughts began to creep into my mind. I was thinking about how little my husband had to say to me. He didn't ask me how my day was. He didn't come to the room to see how I was feeling. He didn't ask if he could get me a Tylenol. When the baby started crying, I went to the kitchen to warm up a bottle for her. The whole time, my husband did not speak to me. Even when he came back to the room later on in the evening, he didn't speak to me and simply played with the kids. I felt like I was literally exploding inside and couldn't help but ask, "Why don't you speak to me anymore"? He instantly blew up at me asking why I was asking him that question. It immediately triggered tears to my eyes at how upset and overworked he was over a simple question that I thought would lead to a meaningful conversation between the two of us...a conversation that would help me to get out of this state (of what I am starting to believe is depression). I started to try to explain why I was asking the question, but he just seemed to be upset, saying that I am always speaking some sort of nonsense. He then snickered and laughed as if I were somehow crazy. At that moment, I felt subhuman. I felt like nothing I had to say would ever matter. I felt like I was being erased...
I started bawling and was a total wreck. I was so much of wreck that I had to leave at that instant. I put on a skirt, my hat and coat and walked to my car. I sat in the car for the next half hour or so, crying at the top of my lungs. I started thinking about dying and crying out to the Lord for help. I kept looking at my cell phone to see if my husband would at least call to see if I was okay, but he didn't. I cannot recall a time where I felt such dispair. It took me a good 45 minutes to compose myself enough to walk back into the apartment. And when I did, I walked back into the room (all red and puffy eyed) as if nothing happened. I lay down on the bed and rocked my son to sleep.
I am so lonely in this marriage. I feel like I have no where to turn. I was so ready to renew my marriage and to do everything in my power to make it work. But I feel like it is a losing battle. ONLY two years and two children later, and I feel like the play is already over! I am looking to God to say a word and help me out of this horrible situation.
