Well, J’s officially resigned from his job. It was either that or have them file for ‘retirement through ill-health’ for him, so it’s better this way.
He seems to be coping better, seems more himself – not as gloomy, or at least not all of the time now. He’s had a few half-assed attempted at looking for jobs, even got a couple of job applications, and has applied for one.
Sorry, but you’ve been off for 7 freaking months and in that time you’ve only just managed to apply for ONE FREAKING JOB???
*calms down*
I know, I know. You’re depressed. You’re anxious. Well you know what SO AM I. I was diagnosed before you and had to pull together for all this shit you threw at me, and I have. I have really, REALLY tried. You always say ’something will come up’, and ‘things can only get better’ right? Well that’s what I’ve been telling myself too.
I’ve been telling myself that for the past 7 months. Watching as you close yourself off from everyone and everything. While you’ve just lay on the sofa curled up in a ball feeling shit. I understand. Really, I do, but… and I know this is gonna sound so damn horrible… where the hell was my time to curl up on the sofa feeling sorry for myself?
Where was MY time to be able to go away for a week at a time “just to get away from it all” hmm? Where the fuck was that? Oh… right, I got 2 freakin days. I just had to get the fuck on with it even though I didn’t want to be near my own children. Even though I felt like calling social services and telling them to take away our baby cause I thought I’d do something god-awful to them if they didn’t.
Even though I wanted the whole damn world to swallow me up, to just fucking end it, I didn’t. You know why? Cause SOMEONE’S got to look after the kids. Cause SOMEONE’S got to act like a fucking adult around here, instead of playing video games all the time and getting pissy when his son want’s to do the same. Cause SOMEONE has to be able to keep some stability for our family, even when it’s all going to hell.
Well, that’s how it was 7 months ago. Wanna know how it is today?
He’s not lying on the sofa feeling sorry for himself anymore, and he’s not immersing himself in video games to forget everything going on around him.
I am.
I have become something I can’t stand, someone I wouldn’t want to live with, someone I would get pissed off with for not doing their fair share. And you know what makes it even worse? He hasn’t complained. Not even once.