Depression: or the State of my Kitchen

This could also be titled the State of My Marriage.  Jakobe and I are both depressed, and if you know anyone who likes to clean when they're depressed, the certainly don't live in our house.  Jakobe and I may deal with depression in different ways, but neither one of us has learned to channel it into housework.  He plays video games, avoids me, and sinks ever deeper into his world of Role Playing games.

I - I get irritable, I want Jakobe to spend more time with me - distracting me from the fact that I feel like shit about the universe, and I read (mostly extremely crappy romance novels - a large number of which are available for free on the kindle at the moment.)

Neither of us cleans.  this means that until today - our kitchen was approaching the definition of national disaster zone, and in fact, while trying to unload the dishwasher, I brushed a box of random crap, that was stacked on top of an empty box, that was in turn stacked on top of a chair.  Yep - all over the floor.  That that sent me into a cupboard door slamming, cleaning, swearing, completely unreasonable rage.  Thankfully - I get home about an hour before he does, and although he may not realize it, the worst of the rage had passed well before he got home.

Unfortunately, I feel a little bit like our marriage is in the same state that the kitchen was in - sadly in need of basic maintenance and care.  We've been trying, both of us, but it's like we just can't quite bridge the gap.  We've had some really good moments, but they're much farther apart than is good for us, and the rest of the time is like right now - he's hiding in the bedroom, and I'm letting him.  Also - going into a crazy rage is certainly not going to fix whatever apathy and depression has done to our relationship, it's just going to make it even worse.

Plus - we have this conversation hanging over our heads.  A conversation about IVF and our next attempt.  I'm trying not to assume I know what Jakobe is going to have to say, but I have this feeling in my gut that it's going to be the same song and dance all over again.  Mostly, that feeling cones from how he told me we needed to talk, but that he didn't want to do it right now.  Since I'm coping with this failure better than he is (and I'm not doing that great) I don't think that he wants to try again any time soon.  I don't want to wait too long.  I'm also falling out of love with our RE - but since he's the only option within 300 miles, and we paid to try three times with him, we're just going to have to keep with the plan.  Yay.

I'm still putting off the conversation.  I don't think we're ready yet.  and I certainly can do without the crying that will almost certainly result.  It never gets easier.  It never gets better.  It just keeps going on, hurting like hell and finding new ways to make us unhappy.

This is us - warts and all.  And I may have cleaned the kitchen in a fit today - but there's still the whole rest of the house looming.

Cars

I have the absolute worst luck with cars.  I can buy a car and have it go screaming in the void of Murphy's law within hours.

In 1998, my parents bought me a 1990 Ford Escort as a graduation present.  6 hours later, the timing belt broke on the freeway.  I fixed it, and nursed it through a couple of years until I broke my ankle while I was living in Seattle and having to drive a manual in rush hour traffic was not working out for me.

2001 - the Kia.  Great little car.  I once hit a pothole.  That bent the suspension and frame.  Oops.  It got totalled while I was underwater, and I had to refinance my house in 2004 to pay it off.

2004 - Borrowed a Jeep Cherokee. I drove it for a year. It's still in my front yard, as the owners moved to Germany (and then England) and the power of attorney ran out.  The water pump died, and the shop said that if I fixed it, it would probably only run for another six months anyway.

2005 - Bought a Chevy Corsica for $950.  The radiator cracked on my drive home.  There was a hole in the dash where the radio was supposed to be, and when winter hit, I discovered that the previous owner had bypassed the heater core instead of fixing it - so I had no heat.  I fixed the heater, and the radiator (Both, by myself, in my driveway.)  But, when the power steering fluid began to leak, I didn't bother to fix it.  I discovered that it was drive-able without the fluid, and well, when it leaked, the smoke gave be blood pressure problems and probably wasn't good for me.

I bought my last car in May of 2008, it was a 2000 Subaru Outback Limited, and it was beautiful.  Before the summer was over, I had not only jumped through a bunch of hoops to get it to pass emissions, but I had also replaced the head gasket.  I reasoned that this was not totally unexpected for a car with 140 thousand miles on it, and that If I just did the repairs, then I would have a reliable car.  I loved the car.  I loved everything about it.  Except for the fact that it had to go into the shop, over and over again, and every time It went in it cost me more than $2000 to have it fixed.  Plus the whole not having a car for a week at a time while they fixed it.  Or getting stranded on thanksgiving weekend in the middle of nowhere Washington with no heat in the car while it was 9 degrees outside (the second time the head gasket went).

Yesterday we took the Subaru to the shop to get looked at.  Diagnosis:  The head gasket, again.  The Catalytic Converter.  The water pump and timing belt, again.  The estimated bill:  $2800, and only because the parts from the last head gasket were still under warranty.

I couldn't do it anymore.  I had no faith that at the end of the day we were't going to be sitting at the mechanic again, sometime next year, with a car that wasn't worth as much as the repairs it needed - after the repairs were done.  So - we sold the Subaru to the mechanic.

Yesterday, we bought a certified 2009 Prius.  And then we decided that given my history, the extra money to extend the bumper-to-bumper warranty to 125,000 miles was definitely worth it.

So - Now we have a car payment.  And given that I have to start paying my student loans in January as well, we're going to have some adjusting to do.  But I just keep reminding myself that really the difference between car payments and repair bills is that car payments are predictable.  We're probably spending close to the same amount of money either way.

Photos - F*cking Eclipse!!!

*Type Here*

Sweeping up - trying to move forward.

I think that it's safe to say that everyone in our little house is a bit broken right now.  I've reached the point where I need to just pick up the pieces and try and figure out how to put things back together.  In some ways it's easier this time, because I've been in this ugly dank slime filled hole, and I can see  the hand and footholds I made to climb back out last time.  I can do it, and I will do it.

I tell myself it could have been worse, but in a way, the negative beta feels like a loss - a different loss than not being able to have a transfer.  Embry was alive when they put her back into my uterus, and I failed her.  I failed to keep her alive - to be the fertile soil that she needed to grow.  The nine days of wishing, and hoping, and acting pregnant are a cruel joke in the face of a negative beta.

But, we pick up, and we march on, and we look to the future.  I can't hope yet.  I don't feel it.  What I feel right now is stubbornness and determination.  Unfortunately mixed in with that is a fair bit of sadness and self loathing.

Even given all of that, I may be doing better than Jakobe.  He let himself hope a lot more than I did, and so fell farther.  We're struggling, and it doesn't help that the ways that we cope and need support are diametrically opposed.  He needs to pull away, to hide, and to nurse his wounds in solitude.  I - I need to be held, and to be assured that I'm not alone.  We're making it work, but it's hard.

I want to be able to close this  on a happy note, but I'm not sure where to find it.  I"m making it work, but only by letting things slip through my fingers that should probably be important.  At least I'm able to put a good face on it every day and get my shit done.

We have our WTF appointment on January 9th.