Oh god, where do I start? I so, so hate my life.
I think the overall theme here is that I'm depressed, and that colors every other aspect of my life. (I'm on medication, but it stopped working. Been to see the shrink, changed dosage, yet still no improvement.) I should be grateful for the many, many blessings that I have, but instead those blessings make me feel like more of a shitheel for not being happy.
I hate being a stay-at-home mom. Hate, hate, hate. I have too many kids. I never set out to have a family this large. One child was the goal, but infertility treatments handed me twins. Since I was "infertile," after the twins were born I wasn't as careful with my birth control as I should have been. Hello, baby number three. And hello Hell. Here I am, stuck.
I can't stand my husband. Sweet jeebus, don't get me started. Whatever was first charming about him has been replaced with a cranky, sick, un-fun, angry person obsessive over totally random shit and prone to moments of rage. Our communication has degraded to the point that I no longer EVER disagree with him. Should he voice a differing opinion about something, I change my tune and, "yes" right along with him. It's not worth the fight otherwise, 'cause I can never win. I am always wrong...just in case you didn't already know. Sexually? Well, I still find him attractive, but our bedroom is too crowded. Meaning that in order for him to, ummm, finish the job, he's got to fantasize about someone else being there with us. Every time. Gets old after awhile.
I'm very, very isolated. Infertility isolated me before I had kids, but since we've moved to the suburbs it's gotten worse. I have wonderful, wonderful friends. That I never see. Oh yeah, sure, we email. Talk on the phone occasionally. But it doesn't fix the isolation. Hubby comes home from work, and even though I've not talked to a grown up all day, he's the last person I want to talk too. Or cater too. Or otherwise be engaged with.
Ready for more Bad Person? I don't like two-thirds of my kids. Can't stand 'em, in fact. Makes getting through every day difficult. I have many aforementioned blessings, but it's not enough. I'm not living the life I was meant to live. What would that life be? Honestly, doesn't matter, just not this one.
Here's the rub...considering my history of depression, it's likely that no matter what life I'm living, it'll be the wrong one. That's the big issue I'm grappling with. Am I doomed to always be unhappy? If past experience is indicative of the future, the answer would be, "yes."
How depressing is that?
No comments:
Post a Comment