So I came home from work today so depressed that I wanted to kill myself. It was only thinking of my daughters that kept me from finding a way to do this.
My daughters were at the movies when I came home, so I had the house to myself to cry and cry and cry.
When my husband came home, cheerful as usual, he asked me how I was. I told him that I was really depressed and he responded with “pobrecita.” Then he asked if we got the trapped hummingbird out of the store today. I told him that we didn’t, that it probably died overnight. Then he said he was “whooped,” meaning really tired. Then he asked me why I was depressed. I told him that I hated my life. He asked, what part. I told him, all of it. He asked, what can we do about it? So, I asked him, what are you willing to do about it? He said he didn’t know, except that he wouldn’t leave, saying that he wasn’t that bad and evil. I didn’t say anything else and we went in the house. (I had been on the deck, planting a plant in a container.)
When we got in the house, he wanted to know when our older daughter was going to pay him for the insurance on the car she drives. He went on about that and then started into, why aren’t the dishes washed. And why is the kitchen a mess. And about how the girls spend all day on youtube. (They don’t.) Then he wanted to know what was for dinner and when dinner was. I told him I didn’t know and that he would have to fend for himself. So he got left-overs out of the fridge and sat down in front of the t.v. I continued working on the laundry and cleaning the house and talking to my daughters when they came while he sat there watching t.v.
Then he told me about a tractor for sale. Which was way out of his price range. And the local gossip from the person who stopped by his shop today.
So much for having someone caring and compassionate actually be concerned about me.
Some day I will leave all of this. Not sure when yet, but someday I will leave.