Because I’m Good Enough, I’m Smart Enough, And… Doggonit, People Like Me!

July 4, 2012

Because I’m Good Enough, I’m Smart Enough, And… Doggonit, People Like Me!

I was driving to work today and had an epiphany of sorts.  Of rather “already been done to death” sorts.  But it was new to me in that it was really the first time it had any meaning for me.

If I have poor self-esteem, if I consider myself worthless, if I consider myself ugly, if I hate myself: that is an insult to God and to my husband.  They both love me.  They love me just as I am.  Certainly they want me to heal, but they love me even with my imperfections.

I was driving and contemplating this article.  I had promised to write about the downward spiral into this abyss.  Which, to be honest, confused me!  It required a great deal of thought to come up with the core of the issue so that I was able to write about it.

As I had previously written, life really is not that bad!  It had been at one point.  There was a period of a few years that were very rough.  It poured when the “issues” began raining: family issues, financial issues, employment issues, utility disconnect issues, issues galore!

But the weird part is, I wasn’t a total raging alcoholic through this.  I became very depressed at points.  I did have episodes of drinking myself near death, and not caring if I awoke.  Life was horrible.

Though, for the most part really, I was strong and did what needed to be done, and pulled through.  Not exactly like Donna Reed or anything so glamorous, but the job got done.  My husband and I continued to unquestioningly love one another and God.  We had bouts where we truly learned what hunger was, but we did not starve to death.  We had our gas taken away, but we never froze to death.  We barely were able to scrape together auto loan payments when collectors called, but we never had our vehicle repossessed.

We got by.

And now things are good.  We both have jobs that, though you can always complain about your job (even if you get to be the Astronaut-Princess-Video-Game-Testing-Cookie-Taster), they are good jobs with decent wages and are generally better than just bearable.  We are getting caught up, and even ahead on our finances.  We love each other and God unquestioningly.

Things have been looking up for nearly a year.  And it has only been in the last oh… less than six months, that I have had this daily drinking myself to near death thing going on: the raging uncontrolled alcoholism.

And while it was happening, nearly every day, I would ask myself “why?” Why am I drinking more heavily and regularly than I ever have in my life? Sure, I like the taste.  But not that much.  And I have really never enjoyed being drunk, I suppose that is one of my excuses for rapidly drinking past drunk to the oblivion stage.  Life is good now, things are improving, why am I taking an active role in possibly killing myself every night?

I posed this question again to myself today on my drive to work.  My answer: I am depressed, I hate myself, I am worthless.

In all the time that we were “getting by” some things became less important.  It was more important that we got something to eat at all than that the dishes got done.  It was more important that the house was heated than that it was tidy.  And some days when our basic needs were not in question, we were just too depressed to put forth the effort to do anything with the house.

I live in squalor.  This is no hyperbole.  My house is embarrassing.

I look at my stacks and stacks of dishes covering my sink, counter, and stove, and it makes me think of what a failure I am as a wife.  I feel worthless and depressed.  This would lead to drinking and increased self loathing.

I have piles of miscellaneous stuff in my living room.  Laundry that never got folded from months ago, old pillows that should have been thrown out, items which were purchased and never put away still in bags, it resembles a hoarder’s house.  I travel the narrow paths and feel despair.  This would lead to drinking and increased self loathing.

The deplorable state of my house seems so overwhelming.  And I know it is of my own doing, and my responsibility to fix it.  I feel worthless and I hate myself for letting it not only get to this state, but grow worse without ever getting better.

Then there are the “man’s jobs” which are also in a sorry state.  I find myself getting angry with my husband over the fact that I can’t even begin to clean the kitchen because I can’t get to it through the bags of trash and empty bottles that are balanced everywhere.  Any false move will send an avalanche of spent whiskey bottles and assorted cans crashing down, then I inadvertently kick them with each step, and the rage grows.

Then I hate myself for even having that moment of anger at my husband.  He is surely in the same mind as myself.  Not only that, but he has done a better job than I have at his designated chores.  At times, when the avalanche occurs, and I suppress one of those audible yet wordless rage screams, I will somewhat jokingly say to my husband, “When this happens I have to pray really hard for Jesus to remind me how much I love you.  And Jesus has better things to do than remind me how much I love you.”  After this, he usually puts forth a good effort.  It isn’t perfect when he is done, but there is always an obvious improvement.

I have put forth some grand efforts.  Honestly I have.  Yet, I haven’t made a dent.  Hours of cleaning and organizing and seemingly nothing to show for it.  This is very discouraging.

One day my husband had a Very Serious Talk with me.  He expressed his opinion that when a wife keeps the home clean and tidy that it shows her love and respect for her husband.  He felt that the way our house is now was a reflection of my lack of love and respect for him.  He said this with gravity and love.  It was not an accusation, and obviously something he had pondered before he spoke to me.  I could tell this hurt his feelings.

Wow.  I cannot express how low this makes me feel.

I do love and respect him.  And I do agree that doing my duties as a good housekeeper are expressions of that love and respect.

Which fed into my depression as I wondered what the fuck was wrong with me that I was not doing this.

Depression leads to drinking and self loathing.  Looking at the squalid conditions surrounding me leads to feelings of worthlessness and depression.  Repeat.

I endeavor to Quit this repeating.

I am a Child of God.  I am my husband’s beautiful and adoring wife.  I am worthwhile.  I am loved.

(Now I just need to repeat that to myself every day, several times a day, and make it stick.  I know it is “true” but “believing” it will be another hurdle.)

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