I’ve not been one to hide my depression. Especially once I graduated college, I learned to just admit it and accept it and treat it. In the past few years, my depression has been much more controlled. By that I mean my mood hasn’t stayed on ground zero non stop. I have attributed that to God, my faith, my job, my age, my confidence. But last week, I felt like I was shot back to 1997.
I had a terrible week. I was talked down to, bossed around, ignored. It drained me emotionally, mentally, and therefore, physically. I’m convinced having a dick would have kept me from such abuse.
Saturday, an incident set me off into a huge bawling binge. My explosion was overdue, and it was the culmination of the week’s hell. It catapulted me into a state of depression that I haven’t felt in a long time. Like bricks were tied to my head, my arms, my back, my heart. I became angry at myself for not being bolder and bitchier, at God for creating me, at men for being jerks.
I had a “prayer” last night that was the most heartfelt I’ve had in a while. Probably because it was full of anger. How dare you create me! How dare you give me this personality! How dare you ! The truth is, I will likely be alone the rest of my life. I may never remarry. I probably won’t have kids. My sister’s husband doesn’t like me, so I may never be close to my niece. I’ve backed away from their family, knowing that my presence seems to ignite him. I’m not sure what it is about me that he resents, but his resentment only worsens through the years.
o, I’m trying to figure out why the hell I was born, what my purpose is, why I’m still here. I’m 36 and have nothing to show for my life.