So many mornings I wake up horribly depressed. When this happens, I lie in bed and cry. Usually as quietly as possible.
This morning was one of those mornings.
Only when I finally quit hitting the snooze button and sat up in bed, I wasn’t crying quietly. I was sobbing.
My husband was on the other side of the room … praying.
Yes, on his knees, praying.
Good for him. Oh righteous man.
But I wonder how he can talk to the Power of the Universe when his wife is sobbing in the same room with him.
How can he do that? “Be warm and filled.”
Sometimes I think about suicide. But I won’t do that to my daughters.
I wish there was a way I could just shut down. I guess I kind of do anyway, except that I cry too much. I wish I could just go numb, just go about the things I have to do and not even feel. Think enough to get by, but just forget about love and life and peace and joy. Just exist but not be.
Yes, I think about taking anti-depressants.
But mostly I just wonder what the point of my life is.
I used to know. I was a pretty good mommy and I tried to be a pretty good wife. I tried really, really, really hard.
But now… my daughters are grown. It’s not that they don’t need me but it’s not the same as when they were little.
And the whole wife thing –
I guess I was just stupid. Wishing for a Cinderella story. Thinking that I could love someone and he could love me back and we could build a life together.
Stupid, stupid me.
I think that I still hope that there is a knight in shining armor out there coming to rescue me. I know that is so lame. I know it doesn’t work that way. I know my brain is messed up.
But my heart still wants to love and be love. And my body wants to make love.
I wish I could just shut down. I wish I didn’t have to feel or have to care.
After I took my shower this morning, I went into the kitchen to make my lunch and my breakfast. Every morning – or almost every morning – I start a load of his laundry. His filthy, stinky laundry.
So I carry in his load of laundry this morning and he says, “good morning.”