Living and dying with the choices you make
Feb. 1st, 2013 11:23 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
becomingkate From ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
dailyprompt
Today's prompt is " living and dying with the choices you make"
Well. If there were a more fitting prompt I'm not sure what it would be.
I actually laughed out loud when I saw it. I mean, really. Lately my life has been all about reflection on my choices, how I got here and what kind of choices I have to make to get out alive (and hopefully not ruined for anyone else who may want to befriend me)
I had dreams. (I notice my font changing, what the hell? But I'm going with it)
I used to be a psychologist in training. I wanted to help other people with their problems. This makes me laugh, now, although I'm sure a good deal of psychologists are as fucked up as their clients. They're just better at solving other people's problems than their own, which also would not surprise me. Maybe it makes them feel better. Either they're so glad someone else is more fucked up than they are, or they're just glad they can help someone, even if it isn't themselves.
So I met my husband online, and everything changed. It was one of those quick, all-consuming, can't live without you attractions, even though it was online. Our phone calls were stereotypical for teenagers in love. All night long, sometimes pouring our hearts out, sometimes not saying anything. I was the needy one, but I think he needed me too.
We met. We got along famously for a while, I saw his temper right away, but he never hit me, and was it too much to ask for someone who never got angry? I thought it was. We started rubbing each other the wrong way. We tried to break up. Despite our best intentions we always ended up back together. Through the hurt, the misunderstandings, the things that maybe we should have broken up for...we didn't. We thought (I thought?) love was about working things out. For better or for worse, except we weren't married, yet, and probably shouldn't have been. More mistakes were made, irreparable hurts without apologies, and yet they never seemed grievous enough to throw away the good things we did have.
Shit piled up, and we plugged away. Our baby was born, we struggled through a lot of things there too and yet we stayed together. I was constantly weighing the pros versus cons, stopping just short of making a chart. Last time I made one of those, it was between two guys, and I ended up picking my husband, which now seemed to be a mistake, so I did not trust pro/con charts anymore.
So now the responsibilities add up and I am still weighing them. There is more at stake now-our son's well being, my well being. So we stay together although he's got to be a brick to think that I'm at all happy. But he never really asks, he says "What can we do today to make you happy?" and I say "It's going to take more than a day" and he laughs it off. He doesn't understand depression. It's not just "I'm a little bummed today, I think I'll go get a mani/pedi and things will be alright." It's too much work to explain it when he won't get it anyway. Words are wasted.
I want to end this by saying I'm not trying to whine. I'm not looking for pity or advice (although you are free to give it and I will take it wholeheartedly. And I'm sorry my font was all weird (if it even stays that way after I post it). I'm using these writing prompts as opportunities to speak more about what's going on, to think things out and to also go outside my comfort zone. Often I write things like this and erase them. I'm tempted to right now. But it needs to be out there so someday when I'm happy, I can look back and wonder what took me so long. I'm afraid I'll live and die with the choices I made, but maybe not. Maybe one day I'll wake up and do something about it.
dailyprompt Today's prompt is " living and dying with the choices you make"
Well. If there were a more fitting prompt I'm not sure what it would be.
I actually laughed out loud when I saw it. I mean, really. Lately my life has been all about reflection on my choices, how I got here and what kind of choices I have to make to get out alive (and hopefully not ruined for anyone else who may want to befriend me)
I had dreams. (I notice my font changing, what the hell? But I'm going with it)
I used to be a psychologist in training. I wanted to help other people with their problems. This makes me laugh, now, although I'm sure a good deal of psychologists are as fucked up as their clients. They're just better at solving other people's problems than their own, which also would not surprise me. Maybe it makes them feel better. Either they're so glad someone else is more fucked up than they are, or they're just glad they can help someone, even if it isn't themselves.
So I met my husband online, and everything changed. It was one of those quick, all-consuming, can't live without you attractions, even though it was online. Our phone calls were stereotypical for teenagers in love. All night long, sometimes pouring our hearts out, sometimes not saying anything. I was the needy one, but I think he needed me too.
We met. We got along famously for a while, I saw his temper right away, but he never hit me, and was it too much to ask for someone who never got angry? I thought it was. We started rubbing each other the wrong way. We tried to break up. Despite our best intentions we always ended up back together. Through the hurt, the misunderstandings, the things that maybe we should have broken up for...we didn't. We thought (I thought?) love was about working things out. For better or for worse, except we weren't married, yet, and probably shouldn't have been. More mistakes were made, irreparable hurts without apologies, and yet they never seemed grievous enough to throw away the good things we did have.
Shit piled up, and we plugged away. Our baby was born, we struggled through a lot of things there too and yet we stayed together. I was constantly weighing the pros versus cons, stopping just short of making a chart. Last time I made one of those, it was between two guys, and I ended up picking my husband, which now seemed to be a mistake, so I did not trust pro/con charts anymore.
So now the responsibilities add up and I am still weighing them. There is more at stake now-our son's well being, my well being. So we stay together although he's got to be a brick to think that I'm at all happy. But he never really asks, he says "What can we do today to make you happy?" and I say "It's going to take more than a day" and he laughs it off. He doesn't understand depression. It's not just "I'm a little bummed today, I think I'll go get a mani/pedi and things will be alright." It's too much work to explain it when he won't get it anyway. Words are wasted.
I want to end this by saying I'm not trying to whine. I'm not looking for pity or advice (although you are free to give it and I will take it wholeheartedly. And I'm sorry my font was all weird (if it even stays that way after I post it). I'm using these writing prompts as opportunities to speak more about what's going on, to think things out and to also go outside my comfort zone. Often I write things like this and erase them. I'm tempted to right now. But it needs to be out there so someday when I'm happy, I can look back and wonder what took me so long. I'm afraid I'll live and die with the choices I made, but maybe not. Maybe one day I'll wake up and do something about it.
