Thursday, 15 March 2007
I really must get out more. But trouble is I'm a bit like a widow. But without the dead spouse. I'm not a golfing widow, I'm a depression widow. It's a bit awkward to fit me into the social sphere. I'm not a widow and unattached. I'm married but my husband rarely goes out or socialises. He is only happy at home and he's rarely happy there. Everyone asks after him and I'm now at a loss as to what to answer. He is seen out and about on occasions. After all there are medical appointments he has to attend. Otherwise I think people would think that I'd murdered him; buried his body in the garden and just carry on claiming his disability pension. I don't murder him as I worry I wouldn't get away with it. In which case I still wouldn't be free. In some ways widowhood would be easier. The end product - if I can call it that - would mean that I'd have to get used to it and move on. As it is we are both trapped and unhappy. One way or another Depression has us both in its grip. Like a widow I am going through the gamut of emotions [I did denial first] now I'm working through loss, anger, grief etc.