Page 78 of Unbreakable
I chomped on my lower lip to stave off more serious emotion. “I hope the kids are okay.”
“The kids will be fine. And when they grow up, they’ll understand, just like we understand our moms now.”
I tossed an almond in my mouth from the table between us. “I guess I’m really stuck. It seems like everybody else just becomes a parent and their marriage is great and everything is fine. No one shows you how to be in love with the people you’re with day in and day out. And right now, I’m not in love with how my life has turned out. I’m a terrible mom.”
“Oh, stop that,” Rachel snorted. “Babe. Get ready. Even the most well-adjusted people have times when they’re not happy with their lives. People who look like they’re doing amazing after having a kid have shredded pelvic floors. People who show how in love they are with their partner have the nastiest fights. People who look like they have it all together are covering up how dead they are inside. Comparing yourself to what you think someone else’s situation is will not change anything for you. You have to look at your life and your circumstance and figure out what you want to do differently.”
I picked at the cocktail napkin, softened from the dripping condensation on my glass. “Dylan said he’s going to be different. The move’s been hard on him too. And he’s been so sweet since he came to get me. But what about when we get back home? He says he has this plan. But I’m scared that won’t work, and then what?”
Rachel crunched an ice cube from her otherwise empty glass, eyeing me. “I don’t doubt that Dylan’s gotten neglectful overtime and that the move screwed you both up. You know I say this with so much love, but do you think you’re depressed again?”
My eyes welled. “You’re not the first person to bring that up.”
She grabbed my hand on the table. “It’s okay if you are.”
I took a shaky breath. “If I am, it makes me afraid that I’m the problem and not him. That I just need to get with it and wake up and love my life. I feel guilty for not loving it.”
She shrugged. “Why can’t it be a little bit of all of it? A little bit of your brain, a little bit of your circumstance, and a little bit Dylan trying to toxic positivity his way through it? He won’t let you express when you’re upset. He made the decision for your family without asking you. That’s enough to make anybody depressed.”
I pulled the soggy cocktail napkin off the table and dabbed my eyes, grateful I was facing the back of the bar and only Rachel could see my face.
“Do you think meds would help you again?” she asked. Rachel had been around for my last bout of depression, and when I started the long process of weaning off the meds once my life stabilized. She weathered the irrational phone call when I dropped my dose too quickly, hid in a closet, and said Dylan hated me.
“I don’t even know where to start with all that in Columbus. New doctors, new insurance, all of it. Dyl says he’ll help me, but we probably also need to find a therapist for us as a couple. When is there going to be time for all this stuff? I’m running all over the place as it is.”
She flattened her lips with soft eyes. “You need to let him help, honey. He can’t help you if you don’t let him try. I know he doesn’t want you to feel this way, J. It’s okay that you do, but it doesn’t need to be this hard.”
I sniffled. “I was so proud of myself for not needing the meds anymore, you know? I thought I’d figured it all out and defeated it somehow.”
She shrugged again. “I’m going to be on my anti-depressant for the rest of my life. Do you think I’m weak?”
I sat back, affronted. “No! Of course not. Never.”
“See? Then why be so hard on yourself?” She squeezed my hand again before letting it go. “I’ll be interested to see what Dyl’s got up his sleeve with this big plan,” she said in a joking voice, then straightened, “but you’ve also got to meet him halfway.”
I growled, giving her a goofy glare. “I hate when you’re right.”
She tossed her honey-colored locks over her shoulder. “I personally love it.”
“Okay, great, stop gloating. I promise I’m going to get your rundown, but can I tell you about how my college summer fling tried to steal me from Dylan this week?”
Rachel’s jaw dropped and she let out a gleeful, “WHAT?”
Later,I sat at the game with my favorite of the L.A. Princes WAGs. Dyl surprised us with a suite, which he told me not to check our bank account to see how much that cost.
He said I was worth it, and I deserved time with my girls.
“So, you’re here because Dylan screwed up and you did the pack a bag and go thing?” Jessie Miknevicius had her daughter Maddie slumped against her chest, falling asleep.
I nodded and winced. “I’m not too proud of it.”
“Sometimes when things are really bad, you have to let them know in a way they can hear it,” she said, raising her eyebrows.
“I mean, there’s a high chance I’m depressed and need meds again. That makes you way more likely to fight.”
Jessie gave me a sympathetic grimace. “Ben and I had our share of troubles after Maddie was born. I had postpartum anxiety pretty bad. Add that to some PTSD that I never really addressed properly, and I was a hot mess.”
“Aw, Jessie, I’m sorry. How are you doing now?” It was like looking at her in a new light. Jessie sometimes seemed insecure at the wives’ gatherings, but she was also kind of a badass. I’d never have guessed she was going through a lot behind closed doors.
