The subject says it all. But, it doesn’t do justice to the journey. There are so many things which happened, so many events, so many learnings, I’ll have to visit it again and again, to be able to explain the experience.
As you know, my times with my in-laws was getting strained day-by-day. Whatever be the reasons, I had stopped finding any justification for their behavior, or my response to it all. Lot of events, lot of phases of depression and discussions with friends and family, I decided it was time to move out.
Moving out of parental home and starting my own family was not an idea I had recently. It was an idea that had been with me ever since I got married. Having been brought up in a nuclear family, I always believed that living alone was a much better way of life than living in joint setup. My in-laws and my husband didn’t just challenge my belief there, they actually proved it to me that it was an equally stable and enjoyable a choice. It has its pros and cons but so does a nuclear family. So, I would get the idea of moving out during my low phases and my husband would admonish the idea by giving me some logical reasons. And, so life continued.
But now in past few months, I don’t know exactly what happened but I started drifting away from it. I guess it had started even before we went for our shot-down last year, Dec 2014. But, I remember not looking forward to out family vacation, and rather attending it with a heavy heart. All this was happening when I had been going through my knee surgery and the complete family had been helping me in that. Despite the fact that they all stood by me and helped me so much, I was unhappy. I’m not usually ungrateful. On the contrary, I feel extra-grateful to anyone and everyone showing or doing any sort of kindness to me. But somewhere my heart had went cold. My Mom (mine, not Tarun’s) was all-so-thankful to my MIL for taking such good care of me. She even gifted something to her as a token of love and appreciation but I didn’t feel it. All of it seemed too formal and distant to me.
Then, as time passed, as circumstances would have it, we didn’t get any opportunity for a weekend-break, or a vacation, which we usually do often. Then Tarun had to go to US for 15 days. That was the time I was on my deepest low. I gave him an ultimatum. Find a resolution or I’ll find one. He promised to do something when he returns. He had often used time as a tool to let my phase pass or subdue. But, this time, even he knew it won’t pass. And, it didn’t.
By the time he returned, my lows had taken the form of full-blown depressions. I would start crying anywhere, anytime, without slightest provocation. My health took a downturn where I started having my BP-dip because of all the thoughts going on in my mind. The moment a negative thought started in my head, my head would start aching, as if an alarm. If anything triggered my anger, it would spike so high that I would have all my body heat up.
Thankfully, all these changes were seen only by Tarun, in the confines of our room. Our parents, both mine and his, never came to know about it. We visited the doc. Got the general check-up done and indeed there was nothing else wrong. Co-incidentally, similar signs his Mom had been showing even before our marriage. She had a higher version of these symptoms. We took her to the doc and doc said it’s nothing but anxiety attack. Tarun knew I was suffering from same and he knew it was time for action.
Now, this is where the maturity of a person comes into play. Tarun knew he doesn’t want to tell his parents about my problems. He didn’t want the amicable relationship between me and them, OR him and them to go to the bin. So, he decided that he’ll talk to them alone, sans me. And that’s what he did. First Dad, then Mom, slowly, steadily, healthily, after multiple discussions, and conversations, he finally convinced them that the children have no problems with them but just need more space.
..to be continued…