hole continued

12.29.2002 - 11:25 am

More on depression...I'm not sure what it is with me. I just don't believe in what I am doing with my life right now. Well, not in all aspects, but in many.

I'm in a job that ... I like what I do, but I despise where I work. I can already see that January is going to be a stressful month with many late nights. The only light I can see at the end of the tunnel is this baby arriving and a long maternity leave. That will hopefully be permanent (from my employer anyway) and may be a mostly-full-time mom and part-time career (or job, who can have a part-time career?) woman.

I'm worried about Nick and his day-to-day life. We both suffer from depression, whereas I feel that mine comes in these stages that last for a few days, I see it in him more on a daily basis. He worries about providing for his family, I do too...but I think in a different way. One in which he is going to get burned out or over-extended or something. We had a talk last night about it, that I don't see his consulting as a permanent job. To me, permanence is an employer with a regular paycheck. To him (I think) a job it a paycheck. So I've said a few things that hurt his feelings because I refer to him as not working, when he really is working. I just worry.

I'm having another bout of "am I ready for a baby?" ... "We need more time just as a couple" ... I am as much a willing partner in us getting pregnant as he is, if I really wanted more time with just us, we would have used birth control. We took our chances, and got pregnant really quickly. Now I'm having doubts, but that's normal right? Is a woman ever really ready to be a mother?

I was thinking last night as I went to bed that I need to get away. Like, just me and a suitcase and a hotel room. I have this overwhelming sense of responsibility that keeps me from doing that. I've had it since I was a child, this isn't a new thing. I was the latch-key kid that cleaned the house, made dinner, watched my brother, got the grades...then later in life went to college, worked at a job and went to school and partied and got the grades (ended up getting mono too) and moved through life with bulimia with that white-knuckled sense of survival because it's what I had to do. I don't ever remember it being about what I wanted.

And now I have this life with a man that encourages me to do what I want, and he showers me with attention and gifts that I don't feel worthy of. I am so far out of my comfort zone I feel like I'm suffocating. So I look at myself and say, Is this the life I really want to lead?

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