TLDR

So I'm having major problems, and the worst, the stupidest thing in the world is to whine and cry about them on a blog, I realize this; but I honestly don't like the alternatives right now.

Yes-- I am actually paying for therapy once a week, but no I don't feel like airing my issues there right now.

Yes-- I have an incredibly supportive and wonderful husband who listens, offers wisdom, and a shoulder to cry on; and NO I definitely don't feel like airing my issues with him at present.

Yes--I have a mother and dear friends who would likely be willing to listen, to give advice, to be there as comfort and support.

But I am so so so so so very very sick of airing my burdens to friends, loved ones, and even the fucking therapist, that I think I just need to try some of it out here. 

In solitude.

In the white-blue hum and glow of the internet.

I am crippled with depression.  Ok?  I said it.  It is beginning to look like going off those chemicals was maybe not the smartest.  It seemed like a good idea at the time, and I think I made a prudent decision, but look;  it isn't working.  I am not well.

Do other people, normal people I mean, do other people think about suicide hourly?  I doubt it.  And yet it feels so completely second nature that it is hard to believe other people don't live like this...

You have no idea how much I despise myself for the thoughts.  For the feelings, the impulses.  I don't like weakness in others and have trouble tolerating any in myself.  And yet.

So it looks like I may be trying to schedule something to get on birth control, because I really don't think that will be happening in my life.  "Not any time soon" Aaron is in the habit of saying.  Well, if not soon then when?  Likely never.  So fine.  Pump my body full of hormones.  Then add on top of that all the chemicals to fool my brain into thinking everything is ok.

Just to get through the days.  Of the career I chose and hate.  Of the bills I racked up and now am indentured to.  Of the hole I dug myself into from which there is no staircase, no rope, no ladder, and no tunnel out from.  Look at all the prepositions ending those sentences unabashedly.

I want out.  Reasons to stay are dwindling.

I feel guilty every single minute.  The guilt and the shame is heavy.  Crushing.  Paralyzing.

I don't deserve the man that has been infinitely patient and kind--not just these past two days, but always.  He tells me he loves me and all I feel is guilt.  He asks how he can help and all I feel is grief.

I woke up hating today.  Sundays are forfeit for me lately because they are harbingers of mondays.  I waste the day in a funk because all I can think about is the pending workweek.

Dread.

Misery.

And then I feel guilty about complaining about having a job that is (almost) paying the bills.  A job I fought for tooth and nail.  A job I can't give up and AT WHICH I need to get better (grammar fairy is pleased).

Guilt guilt guilt, shame shame shame, and then apathy.  Because feeling this much pain cannot be endured for long without going insane or giving up.  I wish I could go insane.  Instead I shrug,  And tend toward cold, miserable apathy.  Self destructive, relationship-killing, job-forfeiting apathy.

God, this is bleak.

My therapist will tell me to get a new job.  She is sweet, and I suppose from the outside it looks that simple.  But in the real world of debt and responsibility we all know that it isn't that easy-- is it?

I don't want to let Aaron down.  He would never let me down.

But I wonder if the band-aid ripping suddenness, the fast & quick, would, in the long-run, be the better option that the slow, painful, drawn-out miser and descent into this awful pit that I am putting him through now.

And has anyone seen that show Once upon a time on like ABC?  Christ.  And I'm not a writer for a living?  seriously?  My fault, I know.  My choices, my lot in life.  My insec urities, my failures.

But really?

Whatever.

(apathy)