This is the last line from one of my favorite songs ever, This Is Where It Ends by the Barenaked Ladies. It's feeling awfully appropriate right now. I feel like I'm hanging onto sanity by a mere thread.
Right now I feel so depressed. Things were so crazy last week, rushed, flustered, crammed. I worked late every night and I worked my first of four Saturdays. I felt good Friday evening, that I had accomplished what needed to be done, and we were getting close to the end.
Saturday didn't totally suck and I got some stuff done, and I slept in until 10:15, so that was ok. I had mentioned to my husband that it would be really great if he could get some housecleaning done, and he said he would. I was gone for 8 hours. I returned and not one goddamn thing was done.
Oh, excuse me, he swept the kitchen floor. Not that you could tell at all. He says he did a load of dishes (ok - but then why not do a second load or hand wash the remaining dishes and take five minutes to wipe down the counters, sink and oven with Clorox wipes? I wasn't asking him to clean the refrigerator, though God knows it's needed. He claims he cleared the table (our catch all, as we mostly eat in the living room), but I could not have sat down to a meal for one. No space at all.
He didn't put a single load of laundry in the wash (granted, it's my chore, but how hard is that?). He didn't put any clothes away. He didn't straighten up any room, or dust, or vacuum, or clean a sink or toilet or bathroom counter-top. We're talking about basic stuff here that is getting overlooked for way too long.
Now, to be fair, I didn't ask him specifically to do any of these things. I haven't done them myself in awhile, because I've been so exhausted. But dude, I'm dragging my ass to work on a Saturday in order to get more money for our anniversary trip. You know I'm stressed out and tired. You know a dirty house makes me more stressed out and tired. The least you could do as a contributing member of the household is one goddamned chore from the extensive list. The least you could do as a loving husband when your wife is doing something to equally benefit the two of you is clean a single room.
I was so disappointed and upset, but I figured that I had not specifically asked, and these are things I usually do, so next week I'll ask. I optimistically thought we could take an hour, hour and a half to work together and get it clean Sunday. Ha.
DH works at a college in a job he hates. Classes began today and he was feeling depressed that he wasn't working elsewhere. I understand that, I really do. I tried to be sensitive to his mood, since he's been so supportive. We slept very late, so most of the morning was gone when we got up. I asked when he wanted to go to the store, since that needed to be done prior to cleaning. He wanted a nap. So he took one. After his nap, I put the grocery list together (cause I needed his input on the menu). We don't get to the store until nearly 7:00 pm. The day is pretty well shot, and I try to take comfort in having at least relaxed for a bit. We get home, he starts making dinner and I do a load of laundry.
Then the phone rings. It's his brother and before I know it, he's made plans to go home and visit his mom the weekend after next. Let me be clear - he agrees to all of this without one word to me about it. And then didn't understand why I was angry. Um, you need to ask me. At least make sure that there are no other plans and that it's ok with me for you to leave for two days. I'm not going to say no. The only time I've ever said now was when we had previous plans we couldn't reschedule. Even when I was clingy and vulnerable, I've never said no. But you need to have the respect to at least let me know this is a possibility. Even though I'm angry with your mother and don't think you should cater to her this way by condoning her poor behavior and overlooking it by traveling there for her birthday, I will keep that opinion to myself and wish you a safe trip, as I always do. But fucking ask me.
I was furious. It was this with everything else. I feel like he's unhappy at work and just coasting at home. He couldn't even fucking vacuum? I am tired of having to be his mother and tell him what needs to be done or do it myself because he thinks it's dumb. I'm tired of the house being a wreck and him not caring enough to do anything about it. I guess it makes me feel unloved and unimportant.
And then there is work. I'm behind all over the place and all my accomplishments from Friday faded when I realized that I botched some stuff. Easily fixed (and already corrected), but it doesn't matter. I'm feeling flaky and wrong-footed and behind, and remembering my boss's nice words from last week only made me feel worse. I'm tired of split departments and feeling so unreliable and I'm quickly realizing I need a break badly. It's like I am fine, fine, fine (if a little busy or stressed or tired) and then suddenly, with no warning, there is no rope left and I am freaking the fuck out. Every little thing is amplified.
I can't even talk about ttc without welling up with anger and frustration. I hate the jealous way I am feeling and the uncharitable thoughts when people who have been have trying for less time than I get pregnant (as if there is any sort of connection). I'm angry with myself for how I've allowed old bad habits back and for how poorly I feel. I'm angry with my body for not being better and working right. I don't know what cycle I'm on. 4 I guess, but it's so unfair. I never had a chance to conceive last time because it was anovulatory. So at this point, I'm just doing cycle 3 over again, I suppose.
I hate that I am thinking less than nice things about people who get pregnant easily. We're hardly at the trouble trying to conceive stage, but we are approaching the 'yeah, it's not happening like I thought it would stage' and it scares me because it's short hop from there to the 'it's not happening like it should stage' and the 'we need to see someone and we can't possibly afford it stage' and that scares the pants off me. I know a whole lot about reproductive systems and about maximizing chances and all that jazz. I know so many people who got pregnant quickly and easily with the aid of charting, and I figured all that knowledge had to mean something. Well, we're doing our best and it hasn't worked yet. Which really means, twice the sperm and egg didn't get friendly and once I failed. Hardly much to complain about, but the fear is there. Why isn't it happening quickly? Are we doing something wrong? What more should we be doing, and if we do it, are we obsessing and letting this take over our lives or is it too late for worrying over that bit? I'm tired of ttc. I'm guessing I may need a break soon, but I find that difficult to maneouver. If I know I'm fertile, I have a compulsion to have sex or feel guilty about not having sex and losing our chance.
It doesn't feel good. It's not fun. But I feel all this pressure. I know it's self-imposed. But cycle 4 (or cycle 3, take two, as you will) - that's longer than anyone I know in real life except my sister (who is missing a fallopian tube) and one friend. Seriously. All my friends got pregnant quickly and easily but one. And when she started charting, she was pregnant in two cycles. So here I am, have done everything right but my weight, and nada in cycle 4. It's scary and I'm scared.
And tired. And emotional. And feeling like a failure. And feeling angry with DH. And knowing much of this excessive emotion rates right back to stress and fatigue at work. I hate this so much.