Four

I call this blog "My Life Is Okay Now" because this marriage is a thousand times better than the first one, and as a woman in my 40's I am so different, and more in tune with myself, than I ever was in my 20's and even my 30's. I believe my unhappiness is all an illusion, and all in my head, and if I could fight through it I would come out on the other side as the woman I am supposed to be at this point in my life. Instead I feel like an immature, sullen, lazy, spiteful teenager who puts their fingers in their ears and goes la-la-la-la-la whenever a parent is talking to them. I don't know what that means in relation to my life, but that's how I feel right now. Just leave me alone, get out of my room, I don't want to deal with it, you don't understand me, I don't wanna do that....all that stupid crap. I believe that much of it is caused by the chronic, unyielding, numbing physical pain I am normally in. Today, for instance, the pain is so bad I literally can't think about anything else, I can't feel anything else. I can't pay attention to the TV show I'm trying to watch, I can't think about what I want to make for dinner tonight, I can't worry about the load of laundry I left sitting in the washer yesterday, I can't think at all. The pain makes me feel like a failure. I can't clean my house, I don't ever want to have sex, I struggle with my weight, I am constantly in an ill mood, I never smile anymore, I rarely get a good night's sleep, it even hurts to drive my car. It took a long time to figure out what was wrong with me, and now that we know, the treatments seem to be useless and even the pain medication only- sometimes- temporarily makes me feel normal. My husband seems sad when he tells me I'm not the same person since we got married, that I changed completely, but what he fails to understand- or won't believe when I tell him- is that the pain started three months after we got married and that's why I suddenly became a "different person". I read a lot, and an article I stumbled across recently said that people in chronic pain tend to suffer from depression. Makes sense to me, although I'm not sure why it took me so long to put two and two together. My pain is a common one- sciatica- and I hurt my back one day in a very common way- housework. Since that particular day, I've been in extreme and constant pain, despite pain medication, despite lumbar injections, despite physical therapy, you name it. And ever since that day, my feelings of failure and worthlessness and surrendering to the dark hole keep growing. The pain won't go away. I have days where it may be less, but never a day of zero pain. On the "good" days I usually become manic and do too much and bounce around from project to project, trying to catch up. Because of that, a good day is almost always followed by a bad day, and I blame myself because I feel as though I overdid it. On some days, I feel like the pain is simply an excuse not to clean the toilets or walk on the treadmill, and I just tell my husband I don't feel well. He doesn't question it, and he expects it. He's even told me to my face he's just come to expect that out of me now- he doesn't love me any less for it, but I know deep deep down inside of himself he HAS to be full of regrets for being married to me, whether or not he wants to admit it. And I feel disgusting and I feel like a damn pig because it hurts so much to vacuum that I just don't do it, and I don't mop my gorgeous wood floors or wipe down my beautiful granite countertops that I picked out myself. And I'm pissed that I live in an almost half-million dollar house and it's so filthy that I wouldn't let my pet sitter come in without enough advance notice for me to quickly clean the living room and close the bedroom and bathroom doors. My husband has offered to get a cleaning service for me, once a month, once a week, whatever I want. But I'm stubborn and in denial and I've refused because for me that just brings home the point of what a loser I've become. Nothing hurts me more than the evenings where I can't get my fat ass off the couch, and I hear my husband unloading the dishwasher himself- after I've been home all day and he's worked for 12 hours. I do love my husband, I really really do, and I hate myself because I am such a terrible wife and partner for him. He gives me everything under the sun, and not only do I not take care of it all, I am usually in a sour mood when I'm with him. What is wrong with me, why can't I get through this?