In yesterday’s therapy session, I shared how I question whether what I see now in the midst of this depression is the truth or a lie. I acknowledge that oversimplifies it, but I wonder whether my depression is hyperbolizing the problems.
She asked what the problems were. I overlaid it with the two other lists I’d made on this blog: what exactly is the problem and what would success look like. The digested combination was:
– work/career
– relationship with sandy
– sexuality
– mothering
To illustrate this point about what was real, I addressed the work/career issue because it was perhaps the least complicated. I said, if you asked me a year ago about my job, I would have told you I love my job. I love the folks I work with, I work close to home, great hours, some authority without a lot of responsibility, challenging, blah blah blah. But, if you ask me now, I know those things are true, but do I really love my job, or is it that I’m supposed to love it, because it’s so good?
Madeline then asked what is missing? what is it that I want? I replied, it is not only not overly intellectually challenging, though that’s part of it; it’s that I haven’t accomplished enough. I don’t have the PhD, or the Directorship or Faculty position. I don’t even work at UC Berkeley. I work at UC Berkeley Extension, which is not much better than saying that I work at UC Berkeley’s Starbucks. But, why haven’t I accomplished what I wanted to accomplish? Well, the choices make sense, because I’m a mom who needs flexibility. UCBX is ten minutes closer than the closest other department on campus.
A big part of this is tied up with my identity: what does “Business Analyst at UC Berkeley Extension”on a LinkedIn page mean to a potential employer, a college friend, a faculty advisor. Theoretically, the lack of achievements bothers me less because of what others think than because of what I think: this is not what I had aspired to. I admit that one thing that does bother me in appearance – in my identity – is that I compromised my career because of motherhood. This is what I perceived my mother did, and I did not want the same for myself. Not that Sandy has ever asked me to sacrifice for our family. Of course, we both acknowledge he is the primary breadwinner, but even saying that, he has and continues to make numerous career sacrifices for the family. My concerns about my identity are less reality and more self-perception.
I switched gears a bit to share how much Sandy has been trying. I listed the attempts to stem his snoring, the helping out around the house, anticipating things that I would grumble about, and shared how he stifled and redirected his anger a couple of days ago when Eliot spilt milk. Instead of raging about how Eliot needs to be more careful, he checked himself quickly, then helped Eliot clean up, assuring him it was an accident. Sandy then he turned to me and told me that he didn’t like the glasses with the silicone sleeves because he thought they tipped more easily, could we stop using them for the boys? And it was so reasonable, that I just said, sure, and went to get different glasses for the boys. This easy exchange was such an entirely different experience than trying to diffuse his anger or mollify him.
So, Madeline asked the most natural question: how does that make you feel about Sandy, that he’s trying so hard?
I paused. I really couldn’t answer with a simple affirmative. When I thought about it, I realized that it made me feel great for the boys. I don’t want them growing feeling their dad is angry and dissatisfied all of the time, the way I so often felt. I question how long the over-the-top attentiveness will last, but I can hope that his self-awareness and tempered temper persists for their sake.
When I think about how it makes me feel about our relationship, about how I feel about him; I am ambivalent. I want to say it makes me feel hopeful. I really, truly want to believe that. Instead, I wilt a bit. He’s striving so to improve, proffering solutions daily; but I still have yet to identify the aspects of the problems, let alone what I really want. I worry that his efforts will flag before I am ready to assess them.
The last part of the session, I explained our couple’s therapist’s approach: the first session why we were there, the second about how we met, the next sessions about our respective backgrounds, before getting into the current issues. Our third session we talked about Sandy’s family background, wrapping up his relationship history overview in the first 15 minutes of our fourth session. I told her how daunting it was to try to cover even a small portion of my history in a session or two. I felt like I was able to just lay the basic landscape of my family and geographical/school life without even touching on some of the more telling bits. I told her about how Jeff would hop on something like it was a significant pivotal point in my life to delve deeper, like about how I was big chested as an adolescent and teen, only to hear something else and then wonder if that was the significant marking point in my life, and yet I haven’t even shared whole portions of my life yet. Madeline grew curious and asked about the big chestedness. Apparently, I never told her about the breast reductions. Which SO illustrated my point. Here was someone with whom I had shared so many key aspects of my life – and yet I’d somehow left out this critical piece of information. It’s disheartening.