So really long story short? We bought a mini van on Saturday. My beloved Gideon the Escape is gone. I could be super happy and gracious that we were able to buy a 2015 Grand Caravan. I could be relieved that we had an issue, we solved it, and are officially ready for Penelope.
I could be all of those things, but I'm not.
I'm not at all.
In fact? I'm angry. I'm incredibly angry. Not just because I'm stuck in a god damn mini van, which feels like a total injustice, but because I have no choice.
You see, despite being sometimes ballsy, a little outspoken, and sometimes I can be a total bitch when I feel like I'm being rolled over, I get no choice. I feel like I'm allowed to state an opinion, but it's not like it's heard. Sales people nod, smile, and give me quips about their kids (as if I give a damn), and then focus on Matt. Matt, for his part, sometimes lets me talk but then shoots me down and I just shut up versus starting a scene. He steam rolls every major decision and it's always me that gets to deal with the fall out. I'm the one managing money and cutting corners so we can pay for things. I'm the one driving a vehicle that has less features than my 1988 Ford Taurus had in high school despite it being $80 a month more than the vehicle I had even when I said we cannot afford t. I leave for two minutes to pee and all of a sudden I come back to decisions made and I look like the asshole if I say no to anything.
Now I'm stuck with this van that I absolutely hate. It's so bad that every time I get into it, I cry. I cry because I'm frustrated that it doesn't matter how hard we work at it, I can't make him be considerate. I can't make him think of someone other than himself or what's easier for him. I can't do that because that's something you're taught as a small kid and your parents hope you retain it for life. But it's frustrating because again, it's me dealing with the fallout.
Then not only am I dealing with that, but I'm dealing with not one, but two instances where people close to me just assume my position on something. Oh, Sara doesn't like this thing, so obviously she wouldn't want to come or be involved. That type of thing. Well guess what? I might think it's pointless, you're making a mistake, or you could do better- I might think all of that or more. But you know what? None of that would prevent me from being there, being 100% supportive and gracious. You know why? Because it's not about me. You want my opinion, and I'll give it to you. But the fact that I'm invited to things, or included in something as a fucking AFTER FACT because someone made an assumption? No. That's not OK. That's rude. That tells me you need to learn basic social etiquette. I'm being included now because people feel bad or obligated? No. I don't really want to go now. So now I stand on the line of going despite feeling not wanted, or not going to prove a point nobody would get or even feel bad about.
I have my 24 week prenatal appointment on Thursday and I hate, hate, hate that I am finally at the point where I have to talk to my doctor about depression. I am at my brink. I have been for years, and I've done a really good job managing without medication and learning how to cope with life being really hard and awful. But now I feel like I'm basically navigating things alone. I know that every one is out for themselves and nobody is going to pull you along. I get that. I just hate feeling like nothing I do matters. I could bend over backwards for anyone, be there any time I'm asked, I do for everyone else, I work myself to exhaustion so life is easier for others, and I take care of everyone else before me, and nobody gives a damn. They just look at everything I could be doing more, and have their own ideas of how I should be.
And it's weighing me down. I feel like I don't want to get out of bed anymore because it's just too damn much. It's too much on me and I wonder why can't people see I'm floundering? I feel like things are falling apart around me and I'm the only person who sees it or cares. I'm sure everyone assumes I'll just pull it together and be fine, because that's what's expected.
And I probably will. Because if nothing else, god knows I feel guilty more than I feel sad and hopeless. And I hate it. I'll just keep soldering on, because as I'm reminded every day, I have nothing to be sad about. I have not one reason to feel depressed.