I can remember a time of being happy. Those days are long gone and I’ve been trying to come to grips with it. I guess I’ll experience happiness from time to time, but even when something happy is going on it’s fleeting and the rest is me just being fake happy. Even as medicated as I am.
I want happiness back. I want my heart to skip and jump like it has in the past. I want to feel good for fucks sake. I’m short of saying, “why me?”. I won’t do that. I understand the what’s of what makes me unhappy but I still don’t get it. Why am I unhappy. I don’t know. My poor husband asks, “Whats wrong?” And I don’t have an answer for him. All I can say is I’m depressed. If I sit this way for too long the thoughts come back. We don’t want that. So I keep my mind moving forward. We are going on a short vacation to Florida to see James and Dee, very good friends of ours. Gonna check out the area, see if it feels homey and possibly move there after Abbie graduates. Thats next year. Came so quickly. I hope I’ve been a good mother to her. Even in all of my fucked upness. I have a pain in my chest and I’m afraid to go to the Doctor because they will tell me it’s another blood clot. I’d rather think that I just need a good massage.
The ramblings of a mad housewife.
Something has to change and soon. I can’t take this ghost sadness any more. I’m running out of excuses and time and energy. If the pills don’t work and talk therapy doesn’t work, than what will?