Marissa: An Update
Things that happened over the last year that you might not know if we haven’t talked recently:
I graduated from divinity school! It was online, which was sad. But Yo-yo Ma played, which was lovely, and I can report that he has a very normal bookcase in his house.
Austin and I spent more time with our families than we have in our adult lives. Which was not the way we’d planned to start our marriage, but wasn’t a bad way to start: we know each other’s families much more now. Austin’s had time to convert my parents to boardgames, and I’ve had time to get his parents addicted to The Great British Baking Show.
I read 53 books, most of which were escapist. Persuasion is as good as you remember.
I got really depressed. Like, really, really depressed. Like, couldn’t stop crying, struggled to eat, wasn’t really that functional depressed. Towards the end of the year (December 10), I admitted that the therapy, prayers, and exercise was not going to pull me through this any time soon, and I took my first antidepressant. I’m still working on getting better, but, also, I am better. In addition to radically improving my life and allowing my family to relax a bit, taking medication also has the happy side effect of truly convincing me that I am sick and need medicine and not, you know, just a bad person. Recently I was talking to a friend (hi Catie!) who said something kind about my emotional resiliency. “Thank you!” I said. “I’m on drugs.”
When I got married, my dad said, “I hope you keep finding out that you’re even more lucky than you thought,” and that’s the other thing that happened this year. Austin was patient with me when I wasn’t at all patient with myself. He made dinner most of the time. He cuddled me during breakdowns and told me it was OK. He was kind when my anxiety made his life hard. He made family rules to help me be OK, like: we have to go outside at least once a day. Oatmeal only counts as a meal at breakfast. Crying is always allowed, but we also have to drink enough. I don’t imagine we’ll ever think of this as an easy year of marriage, but it has been a good one, and most of that is down to Austin.
That takes us to the present day. I’m sitting in my parents’s kitchen as they debate politics and Austin makes apple pastry. (I love this house. I love them.) I’m feeling more hopeful about my life, and even about the world, than I have in a long time. I’m ready to start writing again.
So here’s the plan: I’m going to publish three Sundays a month. (Hopefully four, but, you know, baby steps.) This is scary for me, because it means committing to something I may not be able to do, or may not be able to do well, and we all know how I feel about doing things well. But, at very least, I’m going to try. Hope you stick around to see how it goes.