02 June 2008

CSPP: symptoms may include malaise

Consider this a letter from me four years ago. I don't get into this funk too often any more . . . but then again, I was moved to write this not all that long ago.

We went to college together. We went to grad school together. We had jobs and went places and talked about classes and books and the papers we were working on.

I don't know how things would have gone if nothing had made us drop our original plan, but when I thought of it then it was always something like, get our two kid thing out of the way, get them into school, and get me back into real life.

This is real life, but it doesn't feel like it. You did what everybody does, you went to school and had fun and thought you were smart and did what you wanted and everybody was even. And then you have kids and realize you've flown into a cage while he soars on past along with everybody else.

I hate being the awkward cipher-wife smiling boringly when the grownups get together since I don't know what they're talking about. I hate having nothing to say to him when he gets home besides who hasn't pooped yet today. I hate feeling so left out of such silly things as his saying good morning to other people who go to work and shooting the breeze and making dumb jokes and getting stuck in annoyingly endless conversations about stupid things and having responsibilities besides just living. When he leaves in the morning, my heart sinks. When an afternoon or evening that was supposed to be free suddenly isn't, my heart sinks. When his car needs an oil change, my heart sinks. The door closes behind him and the house feels darker.

My world is very small and out of the loop. I'm running out of energy to keep being angry about it, but it is a personally diminishing journey from there to here.

2 comments:

Gauntlets said...

When an afternoon or evening that was supposed to be free suddenly isn't, my heart sinks

*sob*

Reb. Mary said...

"I hate having nothing to say to him when he gets home besides who hasn't pooped yet today."

Diplomatically, he claims I'm still an interesting person with interesting things to say--but look, I can't even think of two adequate adjectives for this sentence. Some days, most days, lately, seems like the poop report is all I've got.