Thoughts
I find myself somewhat depressed a lot of the time lately.
I’ve put it off as work getting under my skin, even though I know that’s a lie.
Truth is, I haven’t really understood why I’ve been feeling this way.
Weekends I have the mornings to myself while Big Ed sleeps; he plops into bed at some point between midnight and six in the morning, the time I’m sleeping. This morning I sat at the computer and retouched a photoshop piece I did last night, and began on another. I’ve got a spontaneous urge to create; not to write, but to create. Completely unlike me, yes. But while I was working, I thought. Thinking, for me, can be dangerous, have we not learned this lesson before?
I firmly believe that had I not been moved to the big city, I’d still be quite an innocent country girl, most likely never been kissed, and working a small time job at the Tastey Freeze between classes at Seminole Jr College (since been redubbed an actual college, I believe). How different would life be compared to now? A whole hell of a lot, yet not much.
I realized that I’m not mentally healthy. What? How? Well, before certain things happened, I was one of the most friendly girls around, but not in that way, and I’d let people walk all over my niceness. Now, I’m slightly hostile to other women and highly suspicious of every male I run into. It’s become a subconscious habit; I exude an air of hatred to other women, more so when I feel them a threat, and I treat every male as if he’s a future attacker, simply biding his time until the time is right. I know this isn’t right, but it’s something I’ve noticed. And it’s something I don’t know how to fix, or if it’s even possible.
I also took the time to sit and think about my recent funk. I can hide it easily enough, but sooner or later Big Ed will learn the signs and signals of me hiding in my shell. Trust me, it’s not something I’m proud of that I have learned to hide inside myself. I sat and analyzed my mood while I searched through music on MySpace mindlessly. My conclusion: that inner part of me that wants a family is torn to bits because my teenage younger sister is already married and has a baby due any minute now. I know its rediculous, but it’s something I can’t help. That part of me does settle down when I stand in the doorway and watch Big Ed sleep; it hushes and hums and purs because he’s mine, and that eventually something may come of it. It’s simply the possibility.
Oh, and guess what I was told Friday: I’m too faithful. Apparently that because I’m not married, I should be open to the idea of multiple boyfriends and/or partners. How does this logic work? Someone tell me. I honestly don’t understand that view on relationships.
