When I look back to how things were, I see so many things has changed and how so many things had stayed the same.
It’s funny. Funny. I’m getting married soon. You would think I should be so excited. But I can’t bring myself to feel anything.
There used to be a time when I could not remember a time I wasn’t depressed or suicidal. It came to a point where I felt that these two things defined me, that I would not be me if I was not depressed or suicidal. It became my identity. Now, those times are few and far in between.
And yet, when they come, they crash into me, wash over me like a prodigal child returning to the fold. It doesn’t stop. It doesn’t let go. It always comes back.
How silly of me to think that I could finally be free.
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Hey I’m sorry you’re going through all this, but yeah sometimes this burden is something that becomes engrained and ultimately redefines us.
Slightly tangential question for you: do you find it difficult, or even slightly hypocritical, to be getting married even though you’re suicidally depressed? I ask because I have a long history of sabotaging every relationship that gets close (romantic as well as platonic), simply because I want the freedom to kill myself without emotional entanglements. So the thought of a long term commitment goes against my short term goal if you know what I mean.
Just curious to know your thoughts. There are no right or wrong answers, and everyone is entitled to some scrap of happiness, even if it’s just a wedding cake. But it’s definitely a complicated subject.
Edit: I realize you’re not always suicidally depressed and that this is just a momentary fall. But still, like you said, how silly to think we could ever be free.
I can’t escape it either but I have learned that it dosen’t have to control me either. We all have some control we just have to take it.
I was thinking about identity last night. I’d suppose my identity is a carpet-munching suicidal. (laughable term for lesbian)
and that’s all I’ve got.
You are much much more than that cause of death: suicide.