I did it. I realized something wasn’t right. I spoke up. I voiced my concerns and needs to my partner in life. I opened up completely. I let myself be heard, in turn letting myself be important.
A few weeks ago, this momma snapped… in a big, confusing, emotional way. My mental health was not where it should be. Thoughts of suicide and other dark things were creeping in more and more and I was having a tougher and tougher time fighting them away with fake smiles and sarcastic jokes. I talked to my husband, which was terrifying because what man in his right mind would ever stay married to someone so “unstable”?
What man? Mine. Why? Because he is the best damn support system ever, because he loves me, and because he is sensitive enough to know that I haven’t been “okay” in awhile. He’s just the best.
After talking with my doctor and making some changes to my meds, I really didn’t see going back to my full time job as a possibility. I had learned that my mental illnesses weren’t cut and dry, and that I would likely have good and bad days. The odds of functioning well enough to go to work and be productive on a bad day were slim.
For weeks, I silently panicked. I didn’t sleep. I either didn’t eat or I stuffed my feelings down with food until I hated myself. I needed to ask my husband if I could contact my boss to tell her I wouldn’t be returning. I needed his blessing to become a work at home mom, to try something new. I got an online transcriptionist job, hoping this would help my case. I could watch our daughter, save us daycare expenses, and bring in some extra income, but somehow I felt immense guilt for even thinking about springing this on him. I had already asked him to be so understanding of my mental illnesses. And the guy had totally and whole-heartedly agreed to stick with me and ride this crazy roller coaster right alongide me. What kind of selfish bitch now adds, “Hey is it cool if you become the breadwinner in the family and I stay home and play with Avery all day,” to the list of requests? But I was miserable. The thought of returning to work and all of those lovely people depending on me day in and day out was daunting. The anxiety bubbled. I couldn’t commit to being a team member, then let everyone down again. I would never forgive myself.
So, I made up my mind to talk to him. And surprise, surprise, the dude listened intently. Again. Then we crunched some numbers together and talked about all the ins and outs and how we could make this work. We talked about the money I’d save in gas and lunches and daycare. In the end, he didn’t give me his permission. He gave me his support. He gave me his kindness. He gave me encouragement. He gave me the chance to try my crazy plan. I talked to my boss the next day, and it was done.
So that’s where I am. I’m not returning to my full time office. I am officially a work at home mom now. One who is really, really proud of herself for speaking up and asking for what she needed.
Did you hear what just I said? I am proud of me. That’s so huge for me right now.
And damn, I have one awesome partner in life.