Anger. Meredith is angry about the system of residency for doctors. It is a fucked up misogynistic system that cares nothing for significant others. Her anger is directed toward that system and all the “help” she found about it.
But really her anger is much deeper. Angry that she’s in this situation at all. That she is married to a man who doesn’t understand her. That she will never get the life she wants because when all this waiting is done, only then can she even begin to salvage her marriage. Everything she is reading tells her that she needs to give all to her husband at a time when she isn’t sure she even wants to be married to him. How is she able to force the conversation with him when she’s supposed to do everything for him? To keep him from having more stress? It’s that double negative that is crushing her spirit.
As she said, this is bullshit.
I just looked up articles about being the spouse of a resident.
Why am I not allowed to be upset?
Why is the expectation that I will lower my expectations so I’m never disappointed?
Why is the advice to pray and allow god to fill me up?
Why am I constantly reminded to think about how H must be feeling and how his heart is with us even when he isn’t?
Why are their COUNTLESS people suggesting that I should give up whatever is making me insane? What if it’s residency making me insane?
What the actual fuck?
So the advice is that I’m supposed to just give and give and give and give as much as I can. I’m supposed to have zero expectations. Be super understanding of what H is experiencing. And just know that it’ll be over soon? Seriously? That’s the advice. No. This is a fucked up system. I barely know my husband any more. I don’t see him. We talk about only the things that are necessary to make our lives work. I am drowning and no one is throwing me a fucking life vest. They’re just pointing out that I’ll only be drowning a little longer. And shouldn’t I expect the water to be this cold? And shouldn’t I expect that the life vest will show up as often as it can? Jesus. Fucking. Christ.
And yes, getting friends sounds great. With what spare time should I do that? And oh, by the way, you definitely shouldn’t complain to these friends because you should only put your husband in the best light possible.
And please make sure your husband gets plenty of sleep. That’s really important.
I’m so furious. I went out looking for help and all I got were a bunch of 1950’s housewife magazine peddling the same damaging bullshit.
You know what? I feel like I deserve to have high expectations. I am actually worth more than that. I shouldn’t have to wait until some arbitrary date when I’m suddenly allowed to have a decent life again. I shouldn’t just be ok with being alone all the time and hardly seeing my husband. That’s not normal. It’s not fucking normal. I will not feel ok about it. And I especially won’t feel happy about it. And don’t tell me that I need to pray about God is going to come wave some dumb magic wand and fix this. God treasures me. Fucking treasures me. And God treasures H and our family. God may help us work through this but it’s not going to be in some ridiculous reductionist understanding wherein I pray hard and then magically I see that I can just choose to be happy.
This is fucking bullshit.