Today i realized I’m depressed again.

I don’t want to be, so I’d been denying it.  Well.  There must be a reason I feel so shitty.

I attributed it to everything BUT depression.

You see where that got me.

Sitting here writing about it.

Something about being able to feel the computer keys under my fingers makes me feel like something could possibly go right with my life.

I feel so fucking drained and empty.

Most people would say it’s time to go on medication, but I don’t want medication.  i’m so afraid of medication.  I’m terrified of it, honestly.  Something that will make my brain different?  What the hell will that be like?  No.  Terrifying.

The wind in the trees is the only thing that feels real to me today.

I took a bath and I opened the window and the wind was cold but it felt so good – the contrast of the hot water and the cold air and the sound of the leaves rustling behind the glass.  I raised up my arms and let it just flow over me.  Like worship.  Worshiping the wind?  Worshiping God?  I don’t know anymore.

I feel like I don’t know anything.

I talked to Ed last night about how I thought we weren’t going to make it.  How I felt like we were going to get a divorce and I know he heard me but sometimes I feel like he doesn’t know what to do so he’s just holding on as tight as he can hold on.

I want to talk to the Ex about how I’m feeling about Ed but I’m afraid to talk to him, honestly.  I feel like no matter what it’s going to feel like a burden he doesn’t want to deal with.  Too much.  Too much.  Too much.

I am being told by all my “wise counsel” that I shouldn’t worry about being “too much”.  That the people who matter will always stick by you no matter what.  And you know what?  Ed has done that.  Robert always did that (my best friend from high school).  Unconditional love or some shit.  But most people – for most people I am truly too much.  If they knew everything they would run screaming – and yet I have this compulsion to continually reveal more and more about myself to the people I want to be close to me.  I don’t know why – when I know it might drive them away.

My love affair with the Ex is the only thing I’ve been able to keep relatively quiet and even that most people know about.  I don’t even know what that is anymore.  It’s back to the thing that it was before.  Which is what he wanted, I expect.  Not me.  I was hoping – really hoping – for something more.  Something developmental.  Something progressive.  I don’t know to what.  I don’t know what the trajectory looks like.  But I wanted to develop more intimacy.  I wanted to see each other once a month.  I wanted him to call me sometimes.  I wanted those things deeply.  I felt like just those things might be enough – but my needs weren’t a thing that he was able to deal with or find important enough – his life is complicated in ways I suppose I can’t understand.  Taking him at his word – I do, but I still mourn what I thought we were going to have.  What I thought we had.

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