This week predictably has been hard on my mood (or is it technically last week? Sundays are so confusing). I've noticed a dip. Yesterday, I woke up feeling surprisingly depressed, and only after I walked the dog (Beck) that I noticed a little shift.
"Do you want me to show you all the TXT-messages I sent you?" I say to Morpheus as we're both sitting on the couch.
"Yeah, but you never call me! What am I? Twelve years old."
"I called you...twice, I think," I respond weakly.
Earlier in the night, as we were sipping wine, he said, "Where we are right now is my fault."
I told him that it wasn't true. At one point, he told me that he didn't want to deal with the twenty-somethings because of the "drama."
I said, "What do you think I am? I'm tons of drama...." Shit, if I was that great at relationships, I would have been married years ago--I'd be on my second child by now. Obviously, something is wrong with me (yes, seriously, it's called schizoaffective disorder). I honestly don't expect any man to put up with me for long, that includes Morpheus. Is that sad to say? Perhaps, but it's how I genuinely feel. A lot of my friends, I just stopped talking to because I was too depressed, I had nothing to say, I didn't feel like I was even alive enough to hold a conversation. Not surprisingly, most of my "friends" disappeared once the symptoms increased. But a few tolerated me, spoke to me despite the fact that often I didn't respond, and I love them for it. Now, I'm trying to reach out to the people who have been there for me in the past, like Amara and Brandon and, of course, Rosa.
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