Friday, August 3, 2012
Dog days of summer
This weekend is the big regatta on the island. Thousands of people and hundreds of boats will converge on one of the small creeks to drink and hang out. In years past, it was dubbed the largest floating cocktail party in the state. Oddly, even though I live here, I have not been on the water when the regatta occurred. A friend offered to take us this weekend on his small boat, but we declined. Spending the day watching other people drink themselves silly on boats doesn't seem like a relaxing time.
Actually, we haven't decided what to do this weekend. I thought about going to a museum in the upstate to see the Titantic artifact exhibit. We talked about going on the boat up the coast. I'm sure that we will find something to do that will we will enjoy. It never fails that what we both need will be presented in some way as a new adventure.
For two days now, my wife has seemed happier. I'm glad for that. Earlier this week, I felt stuck and lonely, mired in self pity about spending my whole life with someone who has either suffered from alcoholism or depression. These are the moments when I hyperfocus on happy, laughing couples who seem to exude balance. These are the times when I focus on what is wrong with us as a couple, how incompatible we seem. These are the moments when I despair for signs of affection and laugher and love. And these are the times that I forget about the good times that we have shared.
Dissatisfaction will settle on my shoulders, and I'll long to shake it off. I have so much to be grateful for. I see that my wife is one of the best people that I know. She is truly kind, generous, honest, and lovely. She has helped me to unhinge myself from my own upbringing of being critical, judgmental, and serious. I still have a ways to go though when it comes to getting dragged down by the moods of others. I've said it here before: Alcoholism is a lonely disease not only for the alcoholic but for the family members as well. So is depression.
Some friends don't understand this. They don't understand how desperate I am to have someone say, I love you and I support you just the way you are because you're wonderful just the way you are. They don't understand that I can't remember anyone ever saying that to me. I am so demanding and difficult for my friends because I want to crumble and fall apart before them so that they will love me even though I am no fun, lying in bed, crying all the time, not moving. Depression is all about If you loved me you would. ― Elizabeth Wurtzel