Depression: The Refiner's Fire?

Depression has been a chicken and egg thing with me.   Was my depression triggered by my marriage challenges or were my marriage troubles triggered by my depression?  My default position has always been to assume that when there’s a problem, it must originate with some deficiency on my part. It hasn’t helped that I’ve typically hooked up with men who were happy to let me see it that way.  I am not sure where that self deprecation comes from.  I’ve got 4 university degrees, speak a smattering of half a dozen languages, and travelled throughout both the developed and developing world.  I’ve had dinner with dignitaries and influential people; I’ve spoken at conferences on three continents.  You’d think that I’d consider myself a woman worth fighting for. Yet when my husband seemed to think that I should be able to do more, I instantly bought into that. In fairness, I should probably present the case my husband would make against me.  Here’s what he would say about me (that I could probably agree with):

I did not take to step-parenting like a fish to water (statistics say 2 out of 3 marriages with blended families end in divorce)

I had high expectations of teenagers (they don’t lose their keys, they don’t skip school, they don’t speak to me disrespectfully)

I was a score-keeper (my child had chores, his didn’t)

I liked a lot of ‘couple’ time for intimacy, for feeling connected (two nights per week would have been  nice)

I liked to be able to depend on some uninterrupted face time (Can you at least turn your cell phone off during sex?)

I refused to absorb all his friends into my life and schedule, regardless of how nice they were (he had not ever met any of my friends more than once)

I was inconsistent with his children (if you define inconsistent as giving 150% some of the time and only 75% the rest of the time)

I was insanely busy trying to be all that he needed, all that his children needed, and all that my job required while at the same time, trying to ease my daughter into our new reality- it wasn’t just the two of us in our own lovely little home any more; now she had step-siblings who’d been raised with a very different value system.  No matter how generous I tried to be with my time, my affection, my energy, I always had the impression that it wasn’t quite enough, that it wasn’t remarkable enough to warrant his approval, that I couldn’t do enough to impress my husband.  My feelings of deficiency manifested in a depression that fed into those same feelings of failure and voilà – a lethal cycle was born.

As for depression turning out a better ‘me’ than I was before, I’m still wrestling with that one.  I am not so sure that sinking in those depths of despair was worth whatever measurable improvement in my character might exist now.  I do think that I am probably more certain of my rights now and if I had to do it all again, I’d be less conciliatory, less apologetic, less tentative.  I think I’d say  “Sorry but I can’t tolerate this” instead of trying to stretch and bend to make myself fit a mould someone else created.

And now after 10 months, and a blessed reprieve from the depression and stress that came with the marriage, I am actually not so sure if I want HIM back, or if I just want to live to see the day when he acknowledges that he gave up a good woman.