I'm not planning to take the time to try to compose a piece of writing here, just going to get all the thoughts out and you can imagine that its wonderful prose.
This morning I was giving my husband a hard time about not smiling and he told me he didn't have much to smile about. WHAT?? We are healthy and together and alive. We have two wonderful sons. We are not in Afghanistan.*
Further discussion brings out that he feel like he hasn't been really happy since he stopped working at the company where he and I met (another downsizing). Folks that was 3 years ago. He hasn't been happy for three years? Oy. Of course this is daytime, work-related unhappiness, but you all know it transfers itself to the home - how could it not?
One of the ways that his unhappiness is coming to the home is that some days we hardly talk to one another. Not in a haughty fighting sort of way, just in a 'I'm doing this with this kid you do that with that kid' kind of way. But geeze, that can't be good. It's hard that we are living in his mom's tiny little house, so private conversations are rare. Plus there is always an extra adult around (his mom), plus an 11 year old niece that is here after school each day. We can't discuss something as it comes up - we have to wait until night and whisper it, and frankly by then we've forgotten it - or I have. Because let's be real, he's never been upset with me about something and then brought it up later - he doesn't bring up stuff to talk about, its always me. so nothing gets discussed. In some ways that can actually be good - bullshit doesn't get blown into big stuff. But geeze.
I told him today that it seems we are together more than ever, yet somedays we hardly speak and he said "Yup." That doesn't sound healthy. I told him that. That not speaking/communicating is how marriages end. That I don't think our marriage is in jeopardy, but maybe some marriage counseling would be a good idea - we certainly have the time.
He sees blockades and I see possibilites. Its a major role reversal. I asked if he thought depression meds would help him, but he doesn't, and I have to agree with him - his deal seems situational.
Worse yet, he is already singing the blues about his new job - the job we will get someday, because most everything he's got his name in for is in BFE. Seriously, one is 1,000 miles north of the Canadian border, and another is in a town of 1,500 - the next closest town is 4 something like four hours away.
My husband is not gloomy gus - that is not who he is fundamentally. I certainly expected this move to be harder on me that him, but for the third time now, I'm finding my way and doing okay, and he's struggling. Yeah me. But, oh, my husband.
* And this is how you know that I have blessedly (at lease not in these first 7 months) not been stricken with postpartum depression after Toby like I was after Colin. I don't think I would've been so able to find the light and the things to be grateful for if I was depressed. Plus, I'm not gripped with that... you know, that ugly darkness.
