On being left behind.

Thanks to becoming ill, I ended up developing a fear of being left behind. The reason being my friends abandoned me when it was no longer convenient to be with me.

Sometimes there was no warning just a silence that stretched longer and longer until I figured it out. Other times they told me they couldn’t bear to see me like that so they couldn’t support me anymore. Some of them thought I was faking it. Those people utterly disgusted me. I was ashamed that I had associated myself with them. After all how could you claim to be my friend and know so little about my personality? I figured I was simply receiving punishment for the many masks I wore to interact with people.

It was absurdly upsetting. Especially when the one person I exposed my true self to betrayed me at the worst possible time. Thinking back on it, I’m surprised that I survived that one considering the level of depression I was living with at that time.

There are so many things I want to do but can’t. I love seeing people progress but the jealously is killing me. My hubby is doing really well now and I’m incredibly happy that he’s pursuing his dreams. I offer him advice when needed because I’m good at seeing thing objectively.

But even though I love him so much, I still get jealous and scared. Mostly because I’m no longer the capable woman he fell in love with. I’m still relatively intelligent and interested in a variety of subjects so that part of me is still the same. But as I help him grow so does my insecurity.

I’m beginning to wonder if I should seek counselling or get a new prescription for antidepressants. I think that’s the hardest part about chronic illnesses. That ridiculous depression. I still haven’t found the right prescription to manage my chemical depression so it pretty hard some days. And the constant pains don’t help one bit. 

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