Posted: Jun 12, 08 7:29pm
Feeling really sad right now. Sitting in the dark typing into my PC just to be doing something. It must be hard living with me, but D. it it is hard being me. My wife picked up my medication (Cymbalta) for from the Rite Aide Pharmacy this evening. I was working on her laptop, apparently she has a corrupted file and can't open her Outlook. I had been asking her about my meds for a couple of days now, but money is tight, so she was finally able to get it today. When she came back from her errands I asked about my meds. and she told me that she left them in the car. When I saw no movement on her part to get them out of the car I went to get them myself. When I walked in she grabbed the bag out of my hands, and I made a comment to the effect that it seemed like she was hiding something from me (I did not know that she had Father's Day cards in there, that was the furthest thing away from my mind, thus her reason for grabbing at the bag) anyway that turned into an argument. She yelled that she had father's day cards in the bag and had not wanted me to see them. I told her that that now makes me feel foolish all she had to do was bring in the meds herself or let me know that there was something in the bag that she did not want you to see. Instead of the way she went about it. But then she rips the father's day cards in half and storms away. Now I am the one with the mental illness but this is how she responds.
I am a weak, frail man compared to the vibrant one I used to be. Just like the freaking commercials says, "where does depression hurt, all over. Depression is both mental and very physical pain and to me both hurt just as bad.
My wife is a Princeton University Graduate, so she is very intelligent. Unfortunately she spent to much time developing the right hemesphire of her brain (the intellect ) and not enough time in developing the Right Hemesphire (the artistic and/or empathetic side). I try to explain that just because there are no physical signs, like broken bones or blood all over the place, does not mean that my illness is not real and not painful. I know that intellectually she understands, it's just that emotionally she just doesnt get it.
Because of my mood swings I know I am an A hole. Man but she and my daughters work on new ways everyday to tear down any bit of self esteem that I may develop. It's like three against one and I'm always in pain. When I bring this up she/they she I am paranoid. Even when on the meds I still experience pain and sadness. It's just that the Cymbalta makes it just a fraction more bareable.
I hate to admit it but I have thought about ending it on more than one occasion. But I'm to much of a coward to go through with it anything like hurting myself. Somewhere inside of me there is a voice that tells me I am still worth it. That I can still contribute to the global community. That I do matter! But man it is painful and often I dont know what to do. My bout with depression is a very long story, to long for me to post here so I think I better stop now. But I'll be back.
TBD, thanks for the space to vent this.
