Choosing My Confessions

This song is a fantastic song.

Losing My Religion by R.E.M.

I relate to it so well, on multiple levels. “That’s me in the corner, that’s me in the spotlight, losing my religion.”

My husband got mad at me this morning for not telling him what I’m feeling and thinking. I did tell him, he just didn’t hear what I was trying to say. He told me, that if he doesn’t get it the first time I should tell him again. But how many times can you keep saying things, continue repeating yourself, while not being heard before you just stop saying anything at all?

He wants me to take this job that I’d rather shoot myself in the foot than take. It’s one of the jobs that is nothing but drudgery, and I am so sick of those jobs. Also, my school schedule next semester is going to be really packed, I might need that time to study. Lastly, the job would be for the two days of the work week that I don’t have classes, and I had hoped to spend those days at home with my daughter. I really want to be home with her, she’s only two once, and the time is fast approaching when I won’t have opportunities to be home with her like this.

The issue with communication is not a new one in our marriage. It comes up over and over again. He whines that I don’t talk to him, that I’m too withdrawn. I complain that I can’t talk to him, he doesn’t really listen to what I say. Plus he’ll never just listen, he always has to jump in and fix the problem, or correct me, tell me what’s wrong with what I’m thinking or how I’m feeling. A little while ago I was ranting to my husband how I think my boss is lazy. Now, for the most part I like my boss, but it had just been a frustrating day. My husband interrupts and starts telling me how I shouldn’t harbor negative feelings towards my boss, and to just let it go. I know that. I just thought I could vent to my husband, to get it off my chest you know.

When Ellie was a baby, and I was just figuring out how to deal with the whole postpartum depression mess I tried to confide in my husband. I tried to use him as a sounding board to help sort out what was going on and how I was feeling. After a while he asked me to stop talking to him about it. He told me that he couldn’t handle all the negative. So I started cutting all my negative thoughts and feelings out of conversations. Unfortunately, part of being depressed is that the dominant thoughts and feels are incredibly negative, so it didn’t leave me with a lot to share. Then when I started going through my crisis of faith, I again tried to confide in him. But he can’t stand to hear any of my heretical ideas. I couldn’t tell him any of my spiritual thoughts without him correcting me, rather than listening to me. Or he’d start getting concerned about me and my soul, and that felt so very patronizing. It didn’t take long before I filtered out spirituality and Church related topics out of discussion. So yes, I am withdrawn, I don’t share a lot of my life with him. I didn’t have a lot left to share.

To top it off, I’ve stopped talking about anything related to medical school, since it just causes fights. He doesn’t want to leave the state, he’s not sure he want to be married to a med student/doctor, he doesn’t think I can handle it – he fears that the stress will tear me apart from my family. I’m sick of rehashing the issues, so I just avoid it. He’s probably right, medical training might be the fire that destroys our family. But I think it’s already destroyed. It burned up a long time ago by the depression dragon.

I want to make it work. I just don’t know how to balance it all. How do I continue to share with him who I am, without burdening him too much with all my issues?

“Of every waking hour I’m choosing my confessions… And I don’t know if I can do it. Oh no I’ve said to much. I haven’t said enough.”


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