I feel very depressed. And I know that this is a situational depression. I know that drugs can't help me out of this one; not even my regular counselling sessions can wrench me out of it.
My relationship is over and I know it always was, I know that it was never a real, proper relationship, not really.
During the summer, I knew that it would be the last family summer and so I made the most of it; we enjoyed our final, special family holiday, I was less irritated by him because I knew it wouldn't be long before I'd be breaking free of him. I dropped any loving expectations of him but made the most of the time we spent together as a family.
Since September came and the sun set on our final summer, I've been struggling. I know that there is very little keeping me here now. Since April, I've been pulling away more and more from him, lowering my expectations, grieving for the relationship we never had and will never have. He has become my housemate; all hopes of love have vanished in the saddening wisdom and knowledge that's matured inside of me in recent months.
Even if he wanted to have sex with me, I don't think I could and yet I miss sex and connection. Life feels cold; there are high walls around me right now.
My plans have been put forward before him; he knows I don't want this anymore, he knows it's over and yet he holds me hostage with excuses; places hurdles in my way; ignores what is glaringly obvious. He won't leave and yet he has somewhere to go; I don't. He is content provided I am here. He is ok, provided I am physically still in this house with him. It's all he needs. His castle.
Keeping things as stable as possible for the children and yet destabilising him enough to make him leave or atleast agree to selling the house is a fine balancing act. It's taking all my energy just to get through each day. I'm in bed for 8.30pm for the third consecutive evening. My dreams will be weird again no doubt, I'll wake myself up shouting in my sleep or thrashing around because there's no escaping these feelings of fear and frustration even in sleep.
I feel sick to my stomach because I spent my lunch break over-indulging on sugar to fill the emotional black hole in my life. Cake isn't going to fill this void.
And neither is he. My kitchen suddenly feels claustrophobic, I'm stuck in it.
He knows I'm depressed and he tells me I just need to get out more in the day time when I'm working; find a coffee shop. He continues ignoring the real reason for this miserable, bleak cloud in my life- him.
There are no more toddler groups, swimming classes and forest schools with little ones to keep me focused, to give me purpose. I just see a vast miserable space when my children are at school; then they come home but he's here again at the end of the day, in my space and I wish he wasn't.
He tells me that money is too tight for two houses, that we have to make the best of it and I can't. I know that it will be a struggle, but so is this. I need a change of struggle. I tell him that I feel trapped. He knows I don't want this, but for him, I think trapped is ok, because atleast, for him, I'm still here, functioning-ish.
No comments:
Post a Comment