Indistinct Mumblings of an Unsound Mind

Kayla and I have been together a long time now and it’s beginning to look pretty bleak. Everyday we end up fighting for one reason or another and she is completely miserable. A lot of crap has happened lately, and a big part of it is depression, to which my function is only as the catalyst. There’s this magical balance between empathy and distance that I can’t seem to master, so I’m either detached or too emotionally invested to word things in a manner befitting the situation. Everything I say comes off negative, but it’s never meant that way; or worse: it gets twisted far beyond it’s meaning.

Like when she’s having a bad day and I tell her that I love her, no matter how she looks. It’s true. My heart is unconditional with regard to physical prowess or a lack thereof. The problem is, medically, she needs to lose weight: her doctor has said she needs to lose weight and even she wants to lose weight because it’s hard for her to get around and she feels uncomfortable in her own skin. Despite all this apparent desire though, there is always a reason for her to eat more and not exercise. This has been going on for months and I keep providing options to fix it. Phone tracking applications, plenty of options to go outside, a complete willingness to go to the gym, encouragement to head out and exercise on her own/with a friend if she doesn’t want to with me, better food options, and overall encouragement. It’s just that, on situations like this, I’ve tried so hard and it seems like the only issue here isn’t options, it’s a lack of change. Then I get frustrated and approach the problem like I do everything else: straightforward and to the point.  That just blows things up and makes them exponentially worse.

Then, on some rare occasions where I’ve taken the time to present my point in the nicest, most P.C. way possible, it blows up anyway. Something vaguely related will come into play where I was wrong (whether I was wrong or not doesn’t matter, but I’ll demonstrate that in a moment), and the entire dialogue is discarded because of one improperly referenced piece of information. Then there are three options: 1.) Drop it, admit I was completely wrong and let the issue hang; 2.) Try to point out that one fault doesn’t render all the other facts untrue; or 3.) Demonstrate that I was not wrong with concrete proof. Guess what? In all three scenarios, nothing changes. Letting the issue hang means that it goes unaddressed with no sign of a resolution; trying to point out that one incorrect point doesn’t invalidate the 3-5 other instances to someone that was looking for the flaw instead of recognizing an internal issue with themselves is like kicking a wall with the hope of inspiring the next Nirvana album (yes, I know he’s dead – that was the point); and every time I’ve shown evidence that I was not, in fact, wrong at all, it’s just started another argument.

Well, sort of. I guess that’s what really bugs me. These aren’t arguments and they aren’t really conversations. They’re just me saying, “I think this is a problem, what should we do?” and her reacting like I’ve kicked a puppy. A puppy that just got out of surgery after being the first canine to successfully grow and transplant a kidney to a dying unicorn. It just spins in on itself. First there’s hyper-defensive, then blame. This usually starts with a “but I didn’t know” when it’s something we’ve talked about before. She knew. There’s no feasible way someone can not know after things have been talked about this many times. I mean, I’ve got two kids that have learned not to try that line with me because I’ll take the time to point out just how many times we’ve addressed it previously, when those times occurred, and what the promised outcome would be. But those times don’t matter (See above). After she’s done avoiding the problem, she blames me briefly, then internalizes it.

Here’s the major issue – it’s never internalized in a positive way. I don’t know what I’m doing wrong, but every time she internalizes an issue, it someone equates to her being a horrible person. I’ve never once said that. Hell, the majority of the time I’d argue against it, but I just can’t any more. I can’t continue to invest the increasingly greater and greater amounts of time it takes to bring her back from these delusions of being such an awful person.

Truthfully, she doesn’t have anything going for her, either. I know that’s dangerous, but I can’t do anything about it. I’ve tried to encourage her to keep a steady job. Failing that I encouraged her to go to school. That crashed in less than a semester. Her local friends are all gone and every time she reaches out, something happens to make things worse. I can’t fix it.

I can’t fix it. I CAN’T FIX IT!

And that’s where I’ve just given up. Today my kids were hiding under the blankets while I argued with her about using foodstuff that I’ve already set aside for another meal. Because we’re saving money this month and I had to plan a couple weeks of meals. The same thing we just talked about a few days ago.

It’s just a huge swirling vortex of yuck, and I’m not getting sucked into it anymore. She’s not a bad person, and I like her. Sometimes I even love her, but it’s wasted because she doesn’t like herself and she’s unwilling to make the changes necessary to be happier.

Categories: Journal

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