First off, I want to apologize for not being around. I have not had internet access in quite some time. That and sometimes I have to get away from everything. I feel like such a bitch when I disappear from this place when things are going good in my life and then pop back in when I feel like dung. It really isn't that this place isn't good enough for me when my life seems to be in order. I don't know. Maybe when I'm in my really dark times, this forum is very triggering for me.
Anyway, I seem to have pulled the wool over everyone's eyes. It's not something I'm proud of. I have manipulated the situation to where my husband can feel like a knight in shining armor for "rescuing" me from my depression. My mom can feel like a wise sage for dispensing life advice and trying to cheer me up with peanut butter cookies. My sister can feel like Dr. Phil for giving me her brand of tough love. My friend can think it's her hand-me-down "notes from my therapist" discussions we've had countless times. I've lead everyone to believe that I brought all of my sadness upon myself, I've pulled myself up by the boot straps and now I'm fine. Problem is, I'm not fine. I hate life. I hate most people in my life. I hate myself. I have days where I sit outside and everything is too bright. I have days where even the most delicious foods taste and feel like cardboard in my mouth. I have days where if I could get away with it, I would sleep all day long.
I know there is something wrong with me. I never feel well. I have panic attacks in my own bed, for Christ's sake! I constantly feel sick to my stomach. I have frequent migraines. My body aches and nothing brings me joy. Oh, sure, I have days when I laugh and cut up with everyone, but all it takes is a second for me to snap back into a deep pit of depression. I find myself lashing out in anger toward my husband. Nothing is good enough. His ex got everything and I got crap. She got the house with the brand new, Maytag appliances. We lived in a damn 1960's model trailer with holes in the walls with his Alzheimer's mother until it burned down and now we're living with my parents. Yep. My parents. How cute, eh? Two adults living with the folks. She got the kid we're paying child support for. I get the husband who had a vasectomy and swears it can't be reversed. She all of that and what did she do to deserve it? Let's see - she lied, she cheated, she stole from him and betrayed his trust. I've done nothing but love him and take care of him, putting his needs far above my own. I get angry because he isn't romantic enough, but when he buys me flowers it's something I hate. It's not his fault. He's carried me through so many bad times. Maybe it's because I don't ever feel good enough that I pick apart the flaws in those around me.
It's just so sad. I feel hollow. I smile, but it's contrived. I laugh, but it's for the benefit of others, not because I'm happy. I lie when my husband asks me if I'm alright. I haven't cut since October. On one hand, I'm proud of myself for abstaining from it. On the other, I feel as if now I've turned toward a more dangerous coping mechanism - sweeping everything under the rug. At least when I cut, I was confronting all of the emotional trauma that was plagueing me *at that moment*. Now I feel as if I have to set all of that aside for the sake of making everyone around me feel comfortable.
I just wish I would get better.
