So things are not pretty, life is getting tougher and tougher each day. I dream of the days of freedom. Reading a book under the shade of a tree without a worry of the world, no demands of sex, no demands of food of a certain type, no touching the man I despise, no forced social interactions. Ahhhhh. Seems like an ideal situation, eh? I can only dream of that right now.
But you see life is a b*tch. It will make you happy, then take away that happiness, then make you happy again. That’s the circle. But if you don’t find happiness for a long time, you ought to find it in the blessings you have and yeah I agree that helps a lot but a depressed person just kind of doesn’t see anything as a blessing.
This is how a depressed person sees his/her world:
Comfortable house?–I would rather be alone and live in a tree house
Food to eat?–I would rather starve to death
Parents?–They aren’t supportive of me, I have detached myself from them but of course they are my parents, I ought to love them. But I am angry at them, disappointed and angry.
Hobbies?–What hobbies? I hate doing anything. I have lost all my interest in the things I used to enjoy.
So you see for a depressive person, happiness is hard to achieve, that’s why they are in dire need of support and help and when they don’t get it from their family and friends, they keep tumbling down the hollow hole of nothingness.
However, medication rescued me, I am glad I started it, because without it I wouldn’t have survived my marriage. It’s not that my marriage has become better, its that I have gained a better grip on my emotions. I am not angry anymore, I am more calm, more logical.
Getting off of medication is not pretty, I haven’t started the process yet and am not ready to start at all at this point in life but you know what in my life things are never steady so here comes another ball of shit my way.
Mr. Husband had been pestering me to meet with a doctor and discuss our family planning. So we go there and he directs me before hand:
“I will do the talking. We’ll tell her that we are planning a family and she should guide us.”
Imma like, “O hello? Isn’t it supposed to be something mutual. Family planning is a mutual thing, aren’t you going to ask me what I want?”
“It’s already been late, we can’t delay it anymore.”
Eh, right…who cares about the willingness of the woman who has to go through the whole process, the chauvinist male only injects, that’s it, after that, it’s the mother and the child and a plethora of shit balls flying from all directions.
I have to admit I am pissed, anxious and sad. I want to run awayyyyy!
Women In Closet 