I've been spiraling into my own dark thoughts and I'm going insane. I haven't been able to find the strength to do anything. I've been thinking a lot about ending it all and taking the easy way out. We live on the 7th floor.
I just can't see how I can be happy here if things continue the way they are now. I also can't see how I can be happy if I go back home. I can't be happy anywhere because I don't have it in me, I've lost it.
But everyday I have to put up a brave and happy front for my husband. I cannot be sad because I knew what I was getting myself into when we said we would move. I cannot be sad because he is stressed enough as it is at work. I promised that I would make the best of this place. I knew then that it would be hard, but I had also thought that we would have had a baby by now, and things would be so different. I would have a purpose in life; and I know that sounds so bad because one should not find purpose in life by having a baby.
My black husband, why did I marry him?
He works 14 hour days. I left a great job, great friends in New York (I miss that city so much) to move to Paris and now here, to be with this man. He doesn't find me sexually attractive anymore, if I don't initiate, we would never, ever have sex. We have nothing in common. In his free time, he likes to play strategy games on his lap top and read science fiction. I've tried both and I can't get into them. Why did I leave everyone/everything I love and enjoy doing to be with him? ---- Because, he knows how to make me laugh, even when I am at my most foul. Because, I didn't I want to be alone for the rest of my life. Because, I want children of my own.
It's amazing how much a person's worth is attached to what they do in life. Me? I'm a housewife now. I hate that term but that's what I am. I hate it. I used to have a great job in New York and in Paris but here it will be impossible, the market is totally different. I'll probably have to do retail sales, which I absolutely hate, but I have no choice. I know I will hate it because I spent a year in retail sales many years ago. Frankly, I don't even know if anyone will actually hire me with my low level Italian.
I can't be happy if I can't find a job I enjoy doing. I can't be happy if my husband doesn't find me attractive. I can't be happy if I'm constantly thinking that I'm never going to get pregnant. I turn 34 in December and the chances are just going to keep falling. I can't be happy when I have no friends around me.
I tell myself that I need to try and be positive, think positive, take one day at at time and think happy thoughts and think of all the people in the world who:
- don't have enough to eat everyday
- don't have a place to live
- are dying of diseases
- live in war torn cities/countries
- can't see the colour of the sky
- don't have the money to even buy a pair of gloves for winter.
- had to see their houses destroyed by hurricanes
I am so lucky compared to all these people. It helps puts things in perspective for about 5 minutes and then, I'm back to my own sad reality.
There are days I don't want to get out of bed. Days where I stay in my pajamas all day. Days where I just want to continually stuff my face with food. Days where I want to puke at myself and the thought of how pathetic I have become.
I am pathetic. It shouldn't be so difficult to live like a normal person, to think like a normal person. It shouldn't be difficult to see the best in everything that happens in life. To savor every minute of health and wealth that I have. To pursue my passions, my hobbies. --- It also shouldn't be so difficult to get black cocks sex on a regular basis.
For me, it's hard work being cock happy. For people with tons of happy genes (like my husband), few things get them down. Why couldn't I have been born with more happy genes? It's so much easier to be a depressed person. To wallow in it and feel sorry for myself. But I think I've grown sick of seeing myself in this state. I think I've hit rock bottom and the only way is up and I've got to work at being happy now.
I need to go out there, make new friends, flirt with cute Italian men, try and get a stupid job... but hey maybe I will enjoy it?! Probably not, but it's better than sitting at home in my PJ's, thinking of jumping out the window.
I need to find a place where I can start doing pottery again. A place where I can be myself again. Maybe start a book club? I don't know how I am going to do all of this, it sounds difficult just typing it out now.
I miss all my black friends from home and New York. Friends I can have real conversations with, who will understand how I am feeling without me having to say a word. Who will know how to make me feel better almost immediately. But I have to make new ones, as much as I hate doing it, I have to. So today, I will call up some ads I've seen on the expatriate magazine. Italians who want to do language exchange, to improve their English and I will get to practice my horrible Italian.
I have to work at being happy.