Sudden attack of depression
It started with this extremely sad article by one Liz Jones, who had never been on my radar before.
The sad thing is, I know why this poor woman stays in this terrible marriage. I stayed in a relationship I should have left (though nowhere near this abusive) because I was terrified of loneliness. It is rather obvious from her article that being lonely would be a marked improvement on her situation, but it takes courage, effort and patience to overcome loneliness and live happily anyway, and it's an ongoing effort. Staying in an abusive marriage can seem easier.
I should have felt better by reading this, because no matter how bad I have it I have it better than her - instead it depressed me very much.
I think what did it was that it was coupled with a surge of anger I felt yesterday. A friend of mine has been separated from her boyfriend for the day, and was (half-jokingly) complaining about it. And I had this sudden mean, ferocious impulse to say, darling, I've lived like that every fucking day of my forty years save for some brief vacations. I survived, and so will you.
It was mean because, precisely because I have lived alone so long, I know perfectly how bitter it can be. Better than an abusive relationship, yes, and it was its rewards, but bitter, and lonely, and painful. I know exactly how much loneliness bites because I was ready to kill myself to escape it three years ago.
All the same, I can't deny the impulse of thinking, honey, you have no fucking ground to complain.
And so I got to thinking of my current relationship, and its limits. Sometimes I am so warmed to think I have somebody who actually truly loves me, and appreciates me for who I am. It makes me feel worthy, and happy. Sometimes I realize that a relationship with no reasonable prospect of daily contact, or even weekly contact, is hardly a relationship at all. And leaves ample occasions for loneliness.
And so here I am. It is a cold, rainy day, summer seem to have ended, and I was woken up far too early by an hungry cat. I try to snuggle in my bed, turn off the radio and its depressing reality, try to fall asleep a little more. And cry.
The sad thing is, I know why this poor woman stays in this terrible marriage. I stayed in a relationship I should have left (though nowhere near this abusive) because I was terrified of loneliness. It is rather obvious from her article that being lonely would be a marked improvement on her situation, but it takes courage, effort and patience to overcome loneliness and live happily anyway, and it's an ongoing effort. Staying in an abusive marriage can seem easier.
I should have felt better by reading this, because no matter how bad I have it I have it better than her - instead it depressed me very much.
I think what did it was that it was coupled with a surge of anger I felt yesterday. A friend of mine has been separated from her boyfriend for the day, and was (half-jokingly) complaining about it. And I had this sudden mean, ferocious impulse to say, darling, I've lived like that every fucking day of my forty years save for some brief vacations. I survived, and so will you.
It was mean because, precisely because I have lived alone so long, I know perfectly how bitter it can be. Better than an abusive relationship, yes, and it was its rewards, but bitter, and lonely, and painful. I know exactly how much loneliness bites because I was ready to kill myself to escape it three years ago.
All the same, I can't deny the impulse of thinking, honey, you have no fucking ground to complain.
And so I got to thinking of my current relationship, and its limits. Sometimes I am so warmed to think I have somebody who actually truly loves me, and appreciates me for who I am. It makes me feel worthy, and happy. Sometimes I realize that a relationship with no reasonable prospect of daily contact, or even weekly contact, is hardly a relationship at all. And leaves ample occasions for loneliness.
And so here I am. It is a cold, rainy day, summer seem to have ended, and I was woken up far too early by an hungry cat. I try to snuggle in my bed, turn off the radio and its depressing reality, try to fall asleep a little more. And cry.