I'm not a frequenter of forums, but I feel I have no one else to talk to. My husband thinks that I over exaggerate things, or maybe even that I'm a hypochondriac.
Today I just realized I had a very rough February when I was looking through the answers that I put on an almost failed exam. I can tell by the way I answered very simple questions (that I knew the answers to) that my brain was in survival mode. I do remember being very sad, but I thought I was handling it. I've become happier since.
Today I reflected out loud in front of my husband about how last month I did very poorly academically (which is not my style - I'm a grad student), I suddenly lost my favorite grandpa (which resulted in my dad being a worrisome mess), I gained a bunch of weight, I lost all interest in going on a vacation we'd been planning for a month and every time I thought about the future it made me want to cry. I had also thought about suicide, but I haven't told him. I'd never consider actually doing it, but sometimes at my darkest moments I fantasize about how it's the ultimate escape and what it would feel like. At one point last month I told him "this is the saddest I've ever felt in my life".
While I was telling him these reflections, he said he didn't remember me saying anything about being sad, he haphazardly said "yeah, that's life sometimes" and was even trying to massage my crotch so that I would have sex with him.
This indicates to me that he must think that I'm overdramatic, or else he would be worried about me, right?
Every time I get a cold (which is probably only once a year) he wont acknowledge it. Every time we're casually conversing about old injuries, he'll start arguing about how my injury was more minor than I'm making it out to be, even though I didn't know him when I was injured. And whenever I start talking about something hard I'm going through, he belittles it by telling a story about a similar (but infinitely more difficult) situation that he dealt with once.
I feel like I don't complain very much, although I admit that when I do have things to complain about, he's the one I talk to. But since I've acknowledged that he thinks I'm a baby, I find I don't talk to him about life's little bumps, and isn't that what marriage is about? I'm not sure what to do. Maybe I really am a wimp and just need to buck up. We've been together for 4 years, and I love him to death, but ever since I started a master's program last september I've been needing a bit more love, but I'm getting the brush off. What should I do?