Kind of emotionally detached hunger

I’ve needed to write this. I need to write this because there is no one I can tell.

My doctor’s appointment was today. She asked how the Cymbalta is working for me. I’ve accepted my depression isn’t going away. Maybe its the Cymbalta, or maybe its how I’ve learned to cope as of late, but I disassociate for the most part now when I feel myself falling. I told her that. She said that’s good. Is it? I guess. It means I’m not actively planning an immediate suicide. But I’ve become obsessive about my weight loss. I’ve started smoking secretly. I drink coffee like its water. I’m slowly killing myself, and I know this, and I don’t even care.

Our relationship has been falling apart. It’s been doing this for… god, years?

My childhood neighbor passed away last week. He was 68. He had a stroke and died. My family and I went to his funeral Friday. Seeing his wife and daughter broken, he was a happy, kind soul, taken too soon. I felt guilt for feeling the things I have towards my marriage. I left that wanting to try harder with husband. I went up to his work (my parents are his bosses, so its no big deal) as he had like 20 minutes left. I wanted to go out to dinner with him. I was playing with his phone because mine was dead and I was out of data. I looked at his browser history. I have trust issues, back when we were together in college, we weren’t officially exclusive, but I told him if he wanted to be with anyone else in any capacity (physically or romantically) to tell me, because I wasn’t going to be a side chick. I wasn’t going to share. I had to find out via being obsessive and nosey that he was pursuing a relationship with a few different girls during that time. That all stopped when we became exclusive, but my trust issues remained. I haven’t had the feelings warranted since then, thankfully. But I still look. Habit, mostly.

He hadn’t deleted his browser history this time. He normally does. He had been looking at porn. Now, our sex life has been… less than great, and I know this. But he wants me to flip a switch and be horny and I can’t. He doesn’t try to get me there, just wants me to already be there. I don’t have something against porn in general. However, when you see your relationship falling apart and then you see that… well, not good. Plus, when he looked at porn in the past, it made him more demanding, less romantic, less affectionate. It had a lot of negative affects on our relationship so I had asked him not to. Seeing that crushed me, especially since I was so emotionally vulnerable in that moment.

When we got home he asked what was wrong. I asked him how long he’d been looking at it.

“A while”

He promised not to (after I pushed the issue) and kept turning it away from that topic. He kept saying he loves me and wants to be intimate with me. He said he didn’t want to need it, he felt like a piece of shit when he watched it, that he didn’t like it. Obviously he liked it enough if he’s been watching it “a while”. He’s tried since then to be better. I want to believe it will get better between us. However, to be quite frank, that hurt more than I care to admit and I don’t really believe him. I want to, yes, but I don’t. I just don’t. We had good sex yesterday. But that doesn’t mean shit to me right now.

Every time I think about it, I feel this lump in my throat, I feel a pit in my gut. I keep pushing it away. I want to not feel. I started smoking the very next day. I’m using every escape I can muster.

I want to reach out to my girls, but where do I begin? How do I start that conversation? I just… want to disappear. Instead, I force myself to not feel. To get out of my body.



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