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Hey--the calendar AND the clock are right! How exciting!
Hiding out for a couple minutes before I tackle the Great House Cleanup Express 2004. The whole sleep deprivation thing has led to one really messy house. Oddly, it doesn't seem to bother anyone but me. Grr. Arrgh.
I'm feeling a bit unbalanced in the house department right now. With the baby, my job these days is to take care of Will. The Husband's job is twofold--one, to look for a job that will pay him to be outside the house on a regular basis, and two, to work on getting the inside of the house to a point where there is no need for boxes. Right now, there are two major projects on his plate--the bathroom and Will's room. The bathroom is SO close to done. Will's room is not. We have a little over two weeks to Easter, when my whole family will descend on Chez Jenistar. What is my husband doing right now? Napping on the couch. Why, you ask? Because he's too tired to paint. My ass, he's too tired to paint!
I understand depression. I really do. I've been there, done that, saw the movie, took the drugs, sat through the counseling sessions. And what I learned is that depression is a very passive illness. The only way to overcome it is to commit yourself to doing something about it. I also know that it's very easy, in that depressed state, to set up major roadblocks for yourself. "I can't do that for THIS HUGE REASON." THis is where the people who love you come in, bringing their bulldozers, knocking down your roadblocks.
I alternate between feeling sorry for him and wanting to grab him by the ears and shake him until some semblance of sense returns to his head. He's too depressed to work, but the longer he doesn't work, the more depressed he gets. And he REFUSES to recognize this or get himself some help. And we can not afford, in any way, for him to fall apart right now.
I'm very close to the end of my patience, and yet I know that bullying him won't get us anywhere. I just don't quite know what to do.
He got eight straight hours of sleep last night. There's no reason he can't be in that bathroom painting.
I even offered to switch with him--if he wanted to watch the baby, I'D go paint the bathroom--but he would have none of that. Then he can't sit around and make that hangdog face.
Somebody, please, give me some good advice here. Because I really don't know where to go from here.
Wow. I didn't realize all that was going to come out. I guess that's why having this diary is a good thing...
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