Long days, trying to be nice, and self-care Sundays

Today was self-careSunday. Got my nails done and a massage. Something I’ve been doing for several months now and something I never did before. Not sure why I never did anything like this before Robby died. He would get so frustrated with me sometimes when he was trying to get me to do something nice for myself. Or compliment me. Or brag on me or say something nice to me, like when he was proud of me. I would just get uncomfortable and say something like, “That’s sweet. Thanks.” But what I wanted to say was, “Please stop talking, you’re making me feel weird.” Sometimes he would go on and on until I would practically cover his mouth with my hand and say, “I get it. I get it. Please stop.”

I got a little better with self care during the pandemic. My employer started paying 100% for online therapy during the pandemic, so I cashed in. The reason? I was miserable. On top of being in lockdown and watching people get sick or die with Covid, Robby had decided—on his own and with no advice--the pandemic was a great time to go off his meds for depression. I didn’t know it until I mentioned he should speak to his doctor about increasing his dose because he was becoming unbearable to live with. He just looked at me and said, “Yeah, I quit taking that because I didn’t like the way it made me feel.”

My response probably could have gone better. I asked, “How long ago was that and does your doctor know?” He smiled and said, “Oh, around February and no.” We just stared at each other. Teeth clinched. Both knowing what the other was thinking and trying to get through this conversation without it turning into a full-blown argument. I wanted to cry. I was so tired of everything, and I was so worried one of us would get Covid that it hadn’t occurred to me that Robby was really depressed on top of everything. But at that moment it finally made sense.

Living with someone who is depressed is really hard—and I know that sounds simple but it’s not. And most people have experienced it or are experiencing it now and know what I mean.  There are days where you see them start to feel better and you feel a little lighter, like things will get better. Then there are days where you can’t breathe because their darkness is almost suffocating--and that’s where we were at that moment. I had started going back to therapy because I thought there was something wrong with me for not being able to get along with my husband. I felt sad all the time. I wasn’t happy, at all. And I was tired of feeling that way. I wasn’t being kind to him and I definitely wasn’t being kind to myself.

I told my new online therapist that I felt suffocated when I finished working for the day. I worked all day and never really had a moment to myself. And I couldn’t go anywhere because of the pandemic. She gave me tools to start finding some me time and to start practicing self care. Robby understood I needed some space and promised to leave me alone when I needed that time alone. I started going to my room and closing the door so I could read or watch a movie. I would go in the bathroom and do a mud mask thing or paint my nails or soak in the tub and listen to music. I started doing Zoom calls just for fun to play games with friends and family or maybe have a girls’ happy hour. I started feeling the clouds lift just a bit and I could breathe a little easier.

Around late July, Robby did finally get his meds worked out and we looked at doing marriage counseling again to get back on track. My therapist told me that was good idea and we decided to break for a while so I could focus on trying to repair my marriage with a different therapist. I am glad it all worked out and that Robby and I were able to repair our relationship and he was able to fix his relationship with the kids because it would have been a tragedy for him to die like that. He seemed to have left all of his relationships on a pretty high note. With the depression subsided, he had more energy to go see friends, follow through on promises and just be nice to everyone. Which was nice to watch, because Robby is a nice person. He does love his family and friends and that grouchy miserable man I had been living with was not him or who he wanted to be.

I talked to my therapist again in October and she asked how the marriage counseling went. I told her Robby died and she was shocked. She said, “Oh my god, what happened?” I said what I said to everyone, “I’m not sure. He just died. Probably his heart.”

I kept waiting for her to ask, “So what are you going to do now?” But she didn’t. We talked but I don’t remember a lot of it. I just remember talking about taking care of myself and how important that was. How I needed to not hide under the covers or quit going to work. I needed to find a way to put one foot in front of the other and do simple things like brush my hair and my teeth, eat a good dinner, get some sleep and spend time with other people. Those are hard to do when you don’t feel like it.

It’s hard to be good to yourself when you don’t feel you deserve it. The same way it’s hard to take a compliment or have people brag on you. It’s no wonder I used to drive Robby crazy. Watching someone not be their best self is heartbreaking because you love them and you think they are great. There is still a part of me that has a hard time making the nail appointment or spending money to get someone to rub my neck, but those things make me a nicer person to be around. I don’t want to suffocate anyone and most importantly, I don’t want anyone to feel it’s their job to cheer me up so I can keep moving, keep brushing my hair and keep wearing clean clothes.   

Years ago, I read a story in a self-help book that really resonated with me at the time. It was about a woman driving her car to get somewhere. She was stressed, depressed, and running late. Her car was filthy from a dust storm. It started to rain, but just a little. She put on her wipers and slowly turned the dirt on her windshield into mud. The more she ran her wipers, the worse it got until she couldn’t see the road. Frustrated, she pulled over where it was safe to try to figure out what to do. Frustrated, she sat for a while. Finally closing her eyes and taking deep breaths to calm herself. The rain finally picked up after a while and large drops of water began to clear the mess so she could get the mud off her windshield and see clearly again. She slowly put her car in drive and got back on the road, safely, slowly, and with a clearer path of where she was heading.

That’s what my self-care days do for me. It’s that chance to pull over, even when I don’t want to because I’m so busy or I don’t feel I deserve it. It’s that chance to just let the rain fall and clear away the dirt so I can see a little clearer and feel a little lighter. Sometimes you can’t get to where you want to be on your own terms. You have to let someone help—let the rain clean your car kind of thing. Let someone be nice to you. Let them do for you what you can’t--or let them do for you the things you don’t have to do alone. So, at the end of the day, you can do what you really need to do, which is to be nice to yourself and the people you love, and maybe even be nice to a total stranger because you don’t feel like you’re suffocating.