Friday, January 3, 2014

Jealousy Mistaken and Post Partum Depression

So, a few ages back, I said that J was jealous of me, right?
Well, it turned out that she was misunderstanding. She was, indeed, jealous, but not why we originally thought. We thought it was some deep-seated territorialism over the father of her child, or perhaps some weird female drive from before she really considered the poly. We were wrong, of course.
Mostly, she just wants M's attention, and doesn't like when I get it.

Not that he's not paying attention to her, 'cos he is (although she and I have both agreed that he could do it more and better, and told him such), nor that I'm stealing his attention from her (I'm not, she is not home when I'm recieving most of his attentions, thus the reasons I'm recieving most of his attentions.), it's just that their work schedules conflict and they almost never see each other, and he's got plans for when he's not working already in place so that she feels like she can't butt in edge-ways.

Now, he and I had to have a very long, long conversation about how to handle it.
Because this has been going on since he started his current job, and she's gotten less and less okay, and has felt more and more like she was being whiny and naggy and bitchy when she was asking him not to go (which, in fairness, she started to act, so she was justified in feeling that way, but her causality was off), and he felt more and more like she was being one of those impossible-to-please naggy whiny bitches, and I was kind of watching, because what happens on weekends is really not a lot of my know anyway (I'm working then), but I do get to see the wrath during the week.

Ultimately, the only night they can possibly have together, kid-free, is Saturday. Maybe Friday if they start late, but not too late, 'cos kids will still be up in the mornings.

Childcare, by the way, is a bitch, when you're trying to find for three boys and one's and infant and the family's kind of.... mrrph about one of them for reasons that shall not be discussed right now but make me grind my teeth in irritation.

Anyway. Saturday. And M has a permanent plan for Saturday.
J has no plans for Saturdays, but she wishes he didn't have a permanent plan for Saturday, because she wants him home spending it with her.
I'm always home Saturdays, so they can bring the boys home and as long as they get back before I leave for work, all should be well. (Our house is never empty, and I don't sleep well on work nights) So they can make plans.
But he completely misinterprets what she wants out of this, because the only hints he's been getting are when she gets mopey while he's on his way out the door.

A part of this miscommunication is because of her post partum. That shit is a nightmare. I know how it is, too. When I was neck-deep in my depression, I would get sad when people would leave the room. To go to the bathroom. Even if I wasn't talking to them.
Another part of this miscommunication is the fact that it is emotionally charged. And a third reason is due to his irritation at her and the topic at hand and the situation itself, and those all lead to subconscious sabotage of your reading of the situation, and he wouldn't have any room to try and see it from her point of view.

At one point, maybe a month ago, he told her that if she wanted to come up with anything to do, to let him know by Wednesday so that he could cancel or confirm his normal plans.
This is, of course, fucking annoying on his part. He gives her two days to come up with a reason to get herself, but not him, out of the house.
It was at this point that I suggested (lightly) that maybe she wanted to spend the time with him? And that's part of why she's upset?
The idea hadn't occurred to him, I don't think.
I was trying my best to be all cuddles and kisses and stuff, but I think it was his attention more than anything else she was craving, and I could never have substituted that.

It took me a while to work him around to the idea that it was him she wanted.

Took longer to get him to consider that maybe he was messing up, a little, just accidentally, in that situation. And then I had to translate that he had basically told her that she had two days to come up with date plans or else. And that his handling of the situation was nearly as bad as hers.
While she'd wait 'til he was nearly out the door to tell him she wished he wouldn't leave, he would only get angry and keep doing it, telling her why he was always going to.
I finally, last week, suggested, why not set aside every other weekend? Or just one weekend out of the month?
He tried to get out of it, using work as an excuse, but I pointed out that when that doesn't happen, it'll be okay, and if it does, we can work around it.
I think I probably also threatened his life, 'cos it's starting to annoy me, having to be the middle man because they both get hyper defensive/offensive and fight rather than solve anything. This is both of their faults, and I spend a lot of their fights refereeing.

So, lately, she's still unhappy about it, because of the scheduling thing, but now she's overjoyed 'cos we might get to fix that.
But she and I are on hiatus, because she's accidentally friendzoned me, I think (I honestly have no idea.), but if nothing else, she has not been well, she has not been herself, and I know and respect depression enough to know that added pressure basically just makes you wanna curl up into a ball and not do anything ever again for fear of messing it up beyond repair.

I think that's probably the worst part about it right now.
See, we founded our relationship on the principle of open communication. You must speak to one another. Even, and especially, if you don't want to talk about it. You must. It's important. Vital.
She hasn't spoken much to either of us.
Part of this is because she feels like when we talk, it's about work or money, and it stresses her out, and she doesn't handle stress well. Part of this is also because she wants to talk to M and not me as much because of the aforementioned attention thing (and that big-strong-man part of the equation that I will never make up), and part of this is because she's got that wheedling little voice in her head that tells her that there's no reason to bother talking about anything ever because it doesn't matter, and even if it does matter, it doesn't matter that it matters, and even if it did matter that it mattered, nothing good will come of any of it anyway.
So she mumbles, we say what, she mumbles, we say what, she yells nothing, nevermind, we never listen.

I've asked her if she's considered suicide. I know I do when I'm in the worst of my pits of angst (I suffer clinical, take meds for it, lovely little pills. Named it to separate it from me, too.), and I would like to take care of my woman as best as I can, and she said no, and sometimes I wonder.

She has been doing remarkably better. She still has her days, and her moments, but lately, either she's gotten better at faking it (Hope not, fear so), or it's coming less often. I'm wondering if this is because M is on vacation from work.

She did get to take care of us while we had "the plague". (I think it was just the flu, but I don't think I've ever been that sick in my life. It was terrible.) She got to make us chicken soup and get us medicine and make sure we were taking it and helping me use the thermometer, and just overall got to be needed and wanted and helpful in ways she knew how. She seemed to like it.

Alright, thanks for reading. Have a good evening.

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