This is my first entry, and wondering how to start. Dear diary/journal sounds a little forced, but I can help but sit here and imagine that this situation reminds me of what it must be like to be in Catholic confessional, never have belonging a religion… Do I start forgive me father although I haven’t sinned. Anyways, digressing.
Another day, another argument. I have spent my life trying to be enough for people; my parents, relationships, friendships, I have given them my all and never felt like I have been enough. After my depression, after hitting rock bottom, after feeling like everyone has always been one to ten steps ahead of me, was a time where I was ok for me. I liked myself, I liked what I was doing, loved who I was, had my best friend, Lily. Lily didn’t talk much but we bonded instantly. Taking her home from the Kawartha Lakes Humane Society, I never thought I would love someone so much. They weren’t kidding about man’s best friend (although not sure which feminist would take offense to that in this day in age). We did everything together and she was there for me through countless bad times and failed relationships. I am now married and it’s been just over a year since I lost her suddenly to heart failure. It really makes me appreciate how some of the best things are the hardest. Connecting with Lily was easy and the best years I’ve had. Now times are hard, and dark…
The argument I was referring to was with my wife. Lily’s passing probably affected her harder if you were to tangibly see it. But intangible, I’m still shattered. But my wife is now in depression and has been since we married. I do everything, work 12H shifts, pay both expenses on a single income, come home and vacuum, do laundry, clean the cat litters. Because “men” are supposed to be “manly”. Scoffs I do all this and the sexism is what I have to compete with, like all my extra effort is expected and isn’t worth praise… Not that I want praise … Just peace.
I was told that I’m not serious when I do anything around the house. (Am I being told that I half ass chores?)
Please tell me what I have ever done half ass in my life? Most of what I do is more than what others do. And if course the answer is nothing. —Side note— most men, I know, half ass everything, expect everything, and when they get married, do less!!!! Not more!!! I am doing what feels like everything -cook. Idk, it’s not that I can’t cook, it’s just bland. My parents never believed in anything more than seasoned salt. So I choose to not. So if me not taking chores seriously, I wasn’t able to follow. (I can’t help but wonder what she is keeping score about now… She always wants to claim equality but never finds it unless I meet her at her expectations for which she has many.) After ten minutes, we got down to timeliness. As a nurse and a critical thinker, urgent is urgent and emergent is emergent and I learn to prioritize. If the cats or person is in danger, I’m there before asked but if I’m asked to retrieve an item, and I don’t jump when she says jump, and on cue, I don’t take things seriously. But it’s not like I leave her hanging 5, 10, 15 mins… I say just a second, time to stop my current task (gaming, reading, watching TV) get up off my perch to be on task. God help me if it exceeds a minute. But this is what where we have reached. Timeliness. Yet the conversation previous to this was equality and not keeping score. I don’t hold onto her faults, our situation, or anything. I want equality. I do things for her on my own.... Fruition? If that’s the word, and she does things voluntary for me. We both attempt at care despite how much we are actually doing. I want the attempt. But it seems that I am meant to meet her at her expectations rather than the agreed upon middle.

Sigh.

What happens when one compromises so much they lose sight of themselves? What happens when a score of fairness is kept?
I don’t feel cared for, don’t feel like I matter, I feel invisible. I used to go to Lily in times like this, just for a taste of what ‘meaning the world’ feels like to someone who loves you for existing. Maybe this is what’s missing, I now have two cats and hamster, and still don’t have the feeling of what my dog gave. Loss is hard, especially when the situation is a battle where you are losing after loss.

I’m not sure if my marriage will end one day. Im not even sure what it would look like to recognize what would be grounds for it to end.
I am sure that I want to matter. I want my home life to feel as rewarding as my work life. Held highly under the eyes of patients, adored by friends, approachable to mentees.
I want to tell myself, if I matter to me it will be enough. But I still have to seek it from others. One day I hope I will figure this out.