Depression …

Depression – such a big, ugly word… What is it really?

Well, according to Wikipedia, depression can be described as follows:

“Depression, a state of low mood and aversion to activity, can affect a person’s thoughts, behavior, tendencies, feelings, and sense of well-being. Symptoms of the mood disorder is marked by sadness, inactivity, difficulty in thinking and concentration and a significant increase/decrease in appetite and time spent sleeping. A great deal of people also have feelings of dejection, hopelessness, and sometimes suicidal tendencies. It can either be short term or long term depending on the severity of the person condition. A depressed mood is a normal temporary reaction to life events, such as the loss of a loved one.”

I guess that pretty much sums up how I am feeling these days, thankfully with the exception of the suicidal part. I don’t want to die, I just want peace in my mind. I don’t know how to achieve that.

I cry. Quite a lot. Which is very atypical for me. I generally never let my emotions control me, but the last few months have been different. My emotions has been all over the place, but mostly as described above, in the definition of depression. I can’t decide if this is a good thing or a bad thing. Maybe it is a good thing. Maybe I need to vent years of repressed emotions…

I am waiting for an appointment by a psychologist. I know I generally make a grave mistake when I go by one. I hold back. This time I will tell her up front that I hold back. I need questions to answer, to get my thought processes flowing, because I am extremely bad at expressing feelings.

There are many things about emotions and feelings I don’t understand. I understand people have them, but frankly, I have absolutely no idea how to manage or deal with them.

About a year and a half ago, my relationship crashed. 15 years of marriage, down the drain like dirty water from the kitchen sink. Apparently, I wasn’t showing enough “love”. I still don’t understand this. I was there for her, all the time. I was her driver, her companion, her handyman, lover, friend, stepfather of her kids… I sacrificed a lot, I did away with friends, kept my family at a distance, I did a lot of things I found uncomfortable and accepted a lot of things that I quite frankly found was unacceptable, just so I could be available. Apparently, all of that didn’t matter in the end. I did it because I loved her, and I thought she did love me.

Yes, I admit I have my “quirks”, to put it like that, and that some of them might be a bit weird. However, I always figured that my relationship was more important than anything else, and I’d gladly sacrifice my quirks for that.

Why? As it is right now, I really don’t know. Was it love, or was it out of duty, an obligation to do the “right thing”. I don’t know. I probably will never know. I don’t know if there is a difference. What is love anyway, is it a feeling or a choice? I think it is a choice that leads to a feeling. I chose to love and, at least in my head, that was all that mattered. Apparently, that wasn’t enough. Or maybe it was me who didn’t show it enough.

I was hurt. Badly. Breaking up was like having a knife stabbed in my heart, and have it twisted around to add to the pain. My heart is still bleeding, and I think it will be for a long time still. I doubt it’ll ever fully heal, and I don’t know if I ever can trust anyone like that again.

As it is right now, life is like a sad song. A beautiful, but infinitely sad, ballad about love lost, emotional pain and regrets. It is spring, and the world is coming back to life, yet I cry. Every day. And I don’t know if the pain will ever stop.

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