Capitalism has really done a number on my psyche.
In 2019 my husband begged me to leave the job that was making me suicidal and landed me in the suicide ward of my hospital.
I did so, and while we planned initially for me to just spend some time away from work, Covid hit a few months later. Now, I have no plans to go back to work.
Over the last few years, I’ve been keeping the house clean, tending to our dogs, running errands, and making dinner from scratch each and every night. My husband works from home, but the second 4pm hits, he gets the entire evening to relax.
I spend each morning writing (I self publish, but it doesn’t make much money yet), and each afternoon doing chores. I make sure that every hour my husband is working, I’m working. Then, I get started on dinner. According to my husband, I work more hours a day than him, between my writing, errands, and house keeping.
We both have time to exercise regularly and pursue all our hobbies. My husband makes enough money to support us very comfortably, and I manage our budget very strictly to make sure we’re living within our means. We have enough savings to pay for 1 year of expenses/bills in case of an emergency. My husband’s life insurance policy will assure if tragedy strikes, I’ll be able to keep our home.
We’re both happier and healthier than we’ve ever been. My depression is in remission.
And yet I feel guilty constantly.
I’m plagued by worries that I’ll never be able to get a job if I need to just because I’ve been out of work so long.
I receive critical comments from friends and family about how hard it must be for my husband (who I check in with regularly to make sure he’s still content with our arrangement), that I must get bored, that I’ve lost all chance at a career).
And I hear those voices in my head constantly.
Despite the fact that this arrangement has made our lives better, I STILL feel worthless for not contributing to the capitalist machine.