Homework

My CBT homework for this week was to think about the standards that I have set for myself and how their attainment (or not) affects my mood. Here we are then - my soul, laid bare. Be gentle.

I should want to spend more time with my children:

I really try hard with this one because I feel that they can tell I don’t really want to be with them. It is the constant demands that I find so draining, especially when we are all together and I am the default option. I feel like shouting “you have TWO parents!” at them, and sometimes I do. This makes me feel worse - they probably only had a simple request - but I find it very hard to be at their beck and call constantly.

I should enjoy spending time with my husband:

This is a tricky one. I’m not sure how much of this comes from me and how much comes from him. Given half the chance I would probably disappear every evening and sew or something. I feel that the closer he tries to get to me the more I pull away.

I should be able to look after my children by myself:

Because other people can, and I have to be at least as good, if not better, than everyone I know.

I should be having better sex:

Because other people are. Allegedly.

I should be happier:

I have a good life, a husband who loves me, three healthy kids, and yet I have depression. I should slap myself around the face a few times and get over it.

Everything I do should be perfect:

I’m getting a little less strict about this one, but things still have to be pretty near perfect. If they aren’t I point out their inadequacies to every one who cares to look.

I should know everything without being told:

Because "I am a genius", and that’s what clever people do. Clearly this gets me into some sticky situations because I don’t actually know everything. I will pretend damn hard though, given half the chance.

Back to the therapist tomorrow. I'm nervous.

Out with the old

I've been on a downswing lately. Nothing too major: just difficulty sleeping, eating, smiling, and tolerating the husband and children. It could be a response to being back in the thick of things after having a few days to myself. According to the pshrink it could be a result of lowering the depakote. Who knew - it stops you being depressed as well as manic - clever stuff. It's all change on the drug front now - switching to some other mood stabiliser that has the delightful side-effect of giving 25% of users a horrible skin rash. Not to be a pessimist, but you just know I will be in that 25%, right? So, the hair will grow back (curly, apparently) but I will look like a pizza-faced teenager. Cool.

I went to see a new therapist this week. He replaces the previous one who spent pretty much every session talking about her kids, and which school they went to, and how generally fantastic she was with all her other patients. And for this I was paying her? The new guy most certainly is not in the chatty category. Excellent. He doesn't even seem to want to know what has been going on in my life. I was delighted because, for me, the worst part about starting with a new therapist is having to begin at the beginning.

The other good thing about him was that he seemed to have me sussed within about ten minutes, putting into words all those amorphous feelings about my depression that have been floating around for so long. The guilt, the high expectations of myself, the disappointment. It seems that my depression stems largely from having my autonomy curtailed. I couldn't agree more. Given half the chance I would run for the hills and stay there for a long time. Well, probably the beach actually. Unfortunately (or not) there are three small people that persist in calling me mum, and I am actually quite fond of them. Bollocks - I really should have considered this reproduction thing more carefully.

Pinch me

It feels like a dream.

The conversation I never thought I would have.

The response I never dared to hope for.

I told my mother that I knew who my biological father was, and she hugged me. I'm still in shock. I was expecting an attempt at denial at least, and instead I got an apology. It feels like a whole new chapter of my life is just beginning - one where I have a relationship with a parent. Until now it has felt as though every conversation we have ever had was avoiding the issue. That there was no way of talking about anything without feeling the presence of the elephant in the room. Now that elephant has been acknowledged and we can start to relate to each other as real people.

I'm torn between being excited about it, and being terrified it was all a mirage - that things will go back to how they were before. Her habit of denial is a thoroughly ingrained one that I am not sure she will be able to let go of.