![]() ![]() You don’t want to look closely at yourself. Maybe the reason I’ve behaved this way for so long is that the only friend who could ever tell me anything moved away shortly before my husband and I started dating. I have a lot of good friends who care about me and I know they know I’m struggling and I know I make it extremely difficult for anyone to help me because I just shut them out if they try to bring up things that make me uncomfortable. I don’t know why it feels safer to do less and less than to keep trying to get better, but I know I’ve created this situation where I can be with someone who will put up with that and make sure we have food and shelter. I just feel like, how can this relationship possibly be good for me when I feel so bad and function so little all the time? People always compare mental illness to cancer and other physical ailments, and when I think of it like that, I know he’s not necessarily causing my problems, but he’s also okay being married to someone who’s slowly dying and doesn’t seem capable of getting the medical attention necessary to treat it. Writing it out sounds so bitchy, like I’m blaming him for my unhappiness, which I’m not. I’m not getting any younger, and I’m definitely not getting any more dateable (I’m 38).īut I have to wonder if chaos is what I need, because nothing else - going to therapy, taking prescribed medication, writing in a goddamn journal, MICRODOSING lol - seems to be knocking me out of this sad, ghostlike existence. I have those bad dogs, which would make finding a place of my own even harder. I know if we divorced it would throw my life into serious chaos. I love him so much and I believe he loves me and that feels good, but I was better off in nearly every way when I was in unsatisfying relationships or single, even though my life was by no means perfect or even happy a lot of the time. He’s not a dick - he tries to suggest that I go back on antidepressants, look for work, whatever, but lately I’ve been feeling like maybe the thing that’s keeping my life fucked up is being in a relationship with him. In the time we’ve been together, he’s gone from being unemployed, living at his mom’s house, and doing way too many drugs to graduating from law school, staying off hard drugs, and landing his impressive job. In the time we’ve been together, I’ve tried antidepressants and therapy, but nothing has changed. I take jobs and do them halfheartedly and then quit. I had a not-so-good but admirable job at the time I met him, which I later lost. I met him at a time when my life was fraying, and he was doing very badly as well (he was living with his mom), and I’ve just kept going down. He tells me I’m smart and beautiful, and it seems like he means it.īut the entire time I’ve been with him, I’ve stayed a mess. He puts up with my obnoxious dogs and gets along with my friends. He’s smart and kind and funny and handsome and he laughs at soooooo many of my jokes and we have great chemistry. I certainly never liked anyone enough to want to marry them before. I love my husband, and I think he’s the best person by far I’ve ever been involved with. ![]()
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