It is July 8, 2016. I am in one of my favorite spots in new Orleans, Cherry's Espresso Bar listening to Pandora. I am playing my Foo Fighters station, and the shop is not an arctic temperature like most venues in New Orleans because there are large windows soaking in the summer sum on each side of the shop. This is another reason that I like this coffee shop. I have to have sunlight shining on me in one way or another. At home, it is me who is always pulling the curtains all the way open and opening the windows (even in the summer). These small things improve my mental health in imperceptible ways.
I have just returned from The North Shore where I held one week of "Camp". My daughter's best friend was there, my niece, and my son. My mom and I lead the camp. We went tubing, hiking, shopping, exploring, swimming, boating, and did pottery. We watched movies, read books, played in the pond where frogs, tadpoles and fish were collected. There were even leeches that only eat plants. I am exhausted, but in that good way. I just have to keep my mind on an even keel and remind myself that this is normal. There is always a slight dip in mood when you finish a project. At the end of camp, I find myself alone at last- in this coffee shop while my husband takes my daughter's friend to the airport. We have to go to an art opening at 5:30. I am of course dreading this, but my rule to myself, is that I must participate in whatever we are invited to. Oh curse those who invite! The hosts!
I have made a secret appointment with a nutritionist who specializes in what I like to call disordered eating. This is my second attempt at seeing a nutritionist. I feel that I am ready this time to begin to talk about and face the disordered eating that accompanies my depression. It helps me cope, it temporarily fills the void (especially chocolate), but I have no control over it. Not if I am honest with myself. It controls me. The antidepressants I take also cause weight gain. This is another issue, but it is also my disordered eating that creates excess weight. I am now about forty pounds over the weight I should be (according to most standard charts). I would be excited to get back to around 10-20 pounds overweight at this point.
I have put my phone far away from myself so that I don't have to talk to my husband who compulsively calls me. He has undiagnosed ADHD, and possibly oppositional defiant disorder. Right now, I find him extremely trying since I haven't been running in a few days. He is so anxious himself, and I simply hate to be around him sometimes. I feel like we have been doing better as a couple. I had been appreciating all of his good qualities, but this past week has been difficult. He came to my camp, and seemed to need to control things. He said I was "snippy" with the kids. He helped cook food for the kids, but we honestly just wanted to eliminate messes sometimes and not have the entire day be about what he is making. I sound extremely bitchy about all of this, and I am. There is no good reason for it. I'm going to try to move on now because I don't want to put all of this negative energy out there. I forced myself to ask about how his meetings went today. That helped somewhat. I asked him to leave his car unlocked so I could transfer my daughter's friend's luggage into the car. He said he did, but he didn't. His key is very finicky. I asked him to please open the back. He had to go through the process of unlocking the door again. He opened the door by hand. He did not try to help with the bags. He got irritated when I tried to put the bags in a box he had in the back seat. "That's for trash" OK. It was a box that was almost as big as the back of the car, but ok. I did my best to put the bags into the car. He of course got in the way. Do you see the extent of the problem? I want to have control of my life. I want to make my own decisions. I do not want the male dominance to be over me at all. Yet it is. Sometimes I force myself to just listen to what he says, but I don't actually say what I'm thinking. He is very argumentative. His mother and father talk that way, also. It is the way he was raised. At the end of the day, he will usually go along with my ideas. However, he will argue about it, he will discuss the different options, but actually do none of the options. How I long to do it myself with no intervention from him or to be able to make a decision with someone, or just do what needs to be done and NOT discuss it. Why discuss it? What is the point even?
What a waste of time. I don't like reading fiction either, or sports or games in general. I know. I know. I find all of those things wastes of time. All of them.
What is the point really, you ask? Is there a point? I just read an article in The New York Times about a woman who was talking about what was the point of men? I get it. I truly do. There is always a disequilibrium. I can't just do what I want to do, physically, emotionally, etc, without the posturing, posing, etc. coming in.
I can't make up a fake conversation to pretend that I get the point. What is the point? I wanted so much to hike the Appalachian Trail for one week this summer by myself. I was not able to do it this summer because of my husband. Granted, we had a nice week together, but I needed that time for myself. I will not have it again until next summer.
Now I need to move on, move on, and deal with the other stressors in my life. They include other adults.
