Angry

So last night was a setback. I drank to forget, like I used to do. That didn’t work out very well before, and I don’t know why I bothered with it last night.

I tried to drink to forget about her, even if for just a few hours. She just wouldn’t go away. Every shot and beer made it worse, amplifying my pain. Every memory, good and bad, kept coming back to me. To add insult to injury, I had a dream about her when I passed out. I can’t hold on to the bad memories. My mind won’t let me maintain my anger anymore.

Why can’t I escape this? I know living with her doesn’t help, but if she didn’t, I’d be much worse off. The nights she goes out and stays out are always the hardest for me. I feel a piece of myself disappear even when she goes to work.

This codependence isn’t healthy during PTSD recovery. This relationship is not healthy. She’s right next to me, and I can’t talk to her without feeling low. That’s why I talk to this blog. None of you know me. None of you care. I’m just doing this to get it out there.

I’ve never needed validation before. I know I’m a good person now. So why does everyone leave? Why did everyone who said they’d be there for me lie to me? I keep my distance when I’m depressed, but I’m there at the drop off a hat when someone needs me.

Nobody’s needed me in years except my kids.

I don’t understand why that doesn’t make me angry. It makes me depressed. Anger, I can channel. I can turn it into motivation. It’s malleable. I have no idea what to do with depression. It controls me, not the other way around.

Getting rid of my anger was necessary. It hurt everyone around me. This depression nonsense that replaced it just made me a liability. Everyone is gone. Those who stayed are suffering even more. My oldest son is now suffering from depression, and I can’t help but feel responsible.

Maybe it’s time I leave, before I hurt my other sons.

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