Depression Hurts

black dog, depression, bell let's talk, january 27
Promote Bell Let’s talk January 27 2016 the black dog of depression follows her

The Unknown Author’s Journal Entries

Journal Entry – unknown author

June 15, 2015

So, I have decided to take the advice of the therapist who released me and write a journal, even though I will never see her again. My real doctor told me that it would take a few weeks for me to get over the accident but, in the meantime it cannot hurt to make note of some odd experiences. Here goes.

Today was my first day back to work which was rather uneventful with the exception of my elevator ride at the end of the day. A fellow partner stepped on after me. He threw on his coat and a wave of his cologne hit me. That’s when it happened. The scent blasted me into a hazy fog and I started shaking. My head was swimming and I could not catch my breath. I froze staring at the neon numbers above the door willing for ‘G’ to appear while Ray, my colleague, checked his phone. I have never been so thankful to be ignored. Finally, we arrived at the lobby, but it took everything I had to pry myself free from the railing to step out before the people waiting got on.  I spent my entire train ride home trying to steady my hands and clear my thoughts.   Nothing that a couple of glasses of wine won’t cure, right?

Journal Entry – unknown author

June 22, 2015

I have accepted the fact that I lack the discipline and the motivation to keep up with this journal thing daily. I doubt even weekly for that matter.  My aim is to update as often as I can, but more importantly when I feel something has happened notable enough to mention.

Since my last entry I had a doctor’s appointment because I am almost out of pain killers and that is not even a possibility right now. Without them I will not be able to sleep nor can I sit or stand in one position for any amount of time.  I still hurt all over without them.

I am pretty sure that Ray was aware of my little panic attack in the elevator and blabbed because everyone in the office seems to know about what happened last week. It is as if they have nothing else to talk about. Well, that and if I was at fault for my accident.  Everywhere I turn heads are together whispering about me, the elevator and my car wreck.

Tom says that I am being paranoid which inevitably starts a fight where I end up drinking alone in bed binge watching Grey’s Anatomy. Apparently, he also thinks I drink too much.  So, I forgot Penny had dance and was not able to drive by the time she had to go.  It happened once.  He could really cut me some slack.

Journal Entry – unknown author

July 9, 2015

Today, was a bad day. Up until now, I was holing it together; work, the demands of the girl’s summer extracurricular activities,  the house work, mountains of laundry, all correspondence with the insurance company and the droves of paper work involved with replacing the car. Everything was being managed just fine until It wasn’t.  The dentist office called. I had forgotten all of our appointments; a failure to not show is subject to a monitory penalty. That’s when it began to unravel.
Screw the slippery slope analogy. It was like grasping at a drop of ink in a glass of water. I became so overwhelmed that everything stopped. I could see, and hear, and breathe but I had no thought; no brain function whatsoever. There was no recollection of anything, let alone an obligation that I had committed to months earlier. The nothingness of my thinking was terrifying!
I have no idea how long the void in my mind lasted but I winded up being late to pick Abbey up from camp. There she was, with a look of hate and annoyance that only a teenager could master. Her camp instructors dismissed my being late like it was now big deal, but I could tell they had been put out by it.  So, the cherry on top of my day was knowing that as soon as I was out of ear shot, I was going to be verbally crucified and judged.  Not one of those spandex coated, twenty something, Taylor Swift want-to-bes could last a day in my shoes.
Oh, and Tom has set up a futon in the spare bedroom. What kind of a fool would rather sleep on a futon than with his wife? He won’t tell me what it was that I said or did at our annual Canada Party that pissed him off, but he has relegated himself to the den.  He needs to lighten up. We all had too much to drink that night.  It was a holiday after all.

Journal Entry – unknown author

August 6, 2015

It has been a really long time since I updated my journal. Much has happened, most of which I have yet to come to terms with.
I think Tom is having an affair. He is still in the spare room and goes out of his way to ignore me while being extra attentive to the girls. He is always taking them to dinner or going to the movies. Clearly over compensating for something. a girlfriend.
We got into a huge fight a few weeks back because I called him on his bullshit. I could not take him any more. So, I was going to go back to work. It didn’t matter that it was 2 a.m. I was fine. There is a couch in the staff lounge room that I could have used and given myself an early start in the morning. Lately I have been fallen really behind on my billing – I needed to be there.
Instead of begging me to stay or showing a morsel of compassion, my husband, my life partner, called the cops.
I hadn’t a clue this had happened until a constable showed up at the door. Imagine my surprise when my doorbell went off at such an absurd hour. Larger than life, the young armed man, as condescending as possible, insisted on seeing all persons in the home with his own eyes. He humiliated me in front of my daughters by telling me that I had obviously been drinking and in no shape to drive. I have never been so outraged. Right there in the front foyer this man-child, all of 25 years old was directing Tom to gather extra bedding so that I could ‘retire’ to the basement. Where I could drink and rant all I wanted without disturbing the rest of the house. He refused to leave, until I promised to ditch the idea of going to work and sleep it off in the basement.
There had been a cruiser in my driveway for over a half hour. This is not something that my neighbors would soon to forget. I was so horrified by the spectacle Tom created that I called in sick to work the next day.
I swear, that man is on a mission to render me an incompetent fool so that when he leaves me, he can take the kids and move in with his girlfriend. It is no wonder why I drink.

Journal Entry – unknown author

August 18 , 2015


A girl in Penny’s gymnastics is bullying her. She told me that she didn’t want to go any more. This is heartbreaking for any parent. She loves gymnastics and is so good. What do you do? You don’t want to force them to go but you also can’t let the bad behaviour of someone else poison an environment that you love. No one has the right to possess that much power over anyone. I know that this is more about me because Penny hates it when I am late. There are only a few sessions left for the summer and I promised her that I would be there early every night.

Journal Entry – unknown author

September 21 , 2015

After a lot of red tape the new car is finally in the garage. I like it. I would just really rather have the first scratch or dent happen already (and it not be my doing).  It is nerve racking driving something so new and perfect.
Now that I don’t have to take the train any more, I am at work longer hours just to avoid traffic.  This hasn’t been so bad.  Tom and I barely see each other and surprisingly, we get along better when that happens.
I’m okay with everything right now.  The girls are back in school, doing their own things. I am completely off the pain meds and almost have full mobility of my spine again. The promotion I missed out on, while I was on leave after the accident, seems to be up for grabs again. Hopefully, all of the overtime I have been working as of late will play in my favor.  Head down, right? Push through. Just keep going.

Journal Entry – unknown author

October 13 , 2015


The school called me today. I had to leave work to pick up Penny because she had gotten into a fight.  Penny. Fighting. This makes no sense. I couldn’t care less what the principle had to say.  I just wanted to get my daughter home.

One look at her swollen eye and I knew that she wasn’t at fault.  My beautiful baby’s face was puffy and scratched.  The other girl had already left with her parents before I got there. Somehow I believe that the principle had an opinion on how long it took me to leave work and commute the 45mins. I guess I should have been waiting at home by the phone to come get my beaten and bruised daughter from his institutes that I trusted to keep her safe. All I wanted was to meet the other girl. At the very least see her with my own eyes.
Once we got home, I insisted that Penny get out her year book so that I could get a look at the little bitch who laid her hands on my daughter.  It turns out that ‘Belinda’ didn’t go to East Lake high last year.  Penny didn’t one photo of her.
I don’t know what happened. I must have snapped. The next thing I know Penny had made her own compress and was storming off to her room in tears.  Something had taken hold of me and I was in a blind fury. It was all too convenient that ‘Belinda’ wasn’t at school last year. It was like she magically appeared just after my car accident.
By the time Tom found me I was just sitting staring out the window mauling over all the thoughts that consumed me.  The accident had been my fault and everyone was whispering about it behind my back.  Everywhere I turned people were sneaking glances at me before turning back to another and speaking low, hushed voices. A woman a Walmart was on her cell talking about how I left Penny at gymnastics because I am a drunk. As soon as she saw me she ended her call.  Now they are getting to me through my daughter.  I couldn’t take it any more.
When I met Tom’s eye, I prepared myself for him to turn on me too and finally tell me about his affair.  Instead, he too started to cry and begged me to get help.

Journal Entry – unknown author

October 19, 2015


   I feel utterly betraying.
   Tom and I had talked. I mean really talked that night I had my break down.  The person he was describing was not me. When did things go so wrong? All the stories he told me of the things I had done and the person I had become sounded familiar. At first I didn’t think it was that bad. But when he kept going and laid it out in concession like he did, I was horrified. I was coming undone. With more than a little persuasion on his part, I agreed to call a help hotline. But I wasn’t suicidal. Not wanting to be here any more is not the same as being suicidal. It’s about being disparate for this the pain to end; to be beyond the hurting.
   It didn’t matter.  After I spoke with the councilor, who clearly agreed that I was not a threat to myself of my family, she suggested that I make an appointment with my G.P. I did and the appointment was today.
  Don’t get me wrong, I am very happy that Tom was by my side and has been since Penny’s fight at school. But the bastard stabbed me in the back.  After sabotaging my doctor’s appointment and outing me on everything, he confessed that he had gone in to the office before me seeking guidance.  Apparently, the fact that my doctor could not discuss me with him was supposed to make me feel better.
 The only advice he had for Tom was to insist on being at my appointment and part of the discussion.  Of course, he waited to disclose this until the car ride home.  I should have fricken known.  Every time I spoke to Dr. Trainor, Tom was either reiterating what I as say by divulging details I had been careful to omit,  or he straight out ratting on me out on things I did not feel were relevant. Now, I have a prescription for and anti-depressant and a referral for a psychiatrist.
  I had no desire to be on long term medication and respectfully declining the prescription. My oh so helpful husband, couldn’t help but pointed out that I had already been self medicating. If I had no problem polishing off a couple of bottles of wine a night, than how bad could a little pill be?

Journal Entry – unknown author

November 2, 2015


I didn’t get the promotion. They gave it to some ass kisser who has been with the company for all of 10 minutes.  That’s not even the part that pisses me off.  The Senior Partner Ray, had the audacity to suggest that I needed to take some time for myself.  I swear, if I had been a man, it would have been expected that I storm into my boss’ office and confront him about my feeling of being overlooked, underappreciated and completely dejected. But because it was me, he assumed that I could not handle it and was having troubles at home.  Screw him.

I went home and got drunk. I woke up in a wine soaked sheet on the carpeted stoop in the garage. Inside, the house was quiet. I had no memory of who was home or anything that had happened the night before.  There was a note for me on the kitchen table from Tom.  If what he said was true I could not blame him for leaving. Nothing he quoted me saying sounded familiar. At some point I must have been sucked into my past.  I had never told Tom about my rape but according to him I had accused him of it and last night had not been the first time.

I had never felt so alone and no amount of apologizing would bring my husband back.  The hardest part was that he didn’t seem angry or frustrated. There was an heir of pity and sadness in his words. This hurt even more.

He came home later that afternoon. I had cleaned up and accepted that my secrets and problems were now out in the open. My sweet patient husband took my hand and said that we would fix them together if I stopped drinking. I promised that I would try.


Journal Entry – unknown author

November 22, 2015


  There was not shouting nor were there tears. Tom was not angry nor was he upset either. I had not been keeping my promise. The fact is, I don’t know if I can.  Since, that ugly night when I slept in the garage, I have not gone to bed sober. I can’t explain it. I can’t help it.
  We were sitting calmly in the living room after the girls had gone to bed when Tom told me that it was all right if I wanted to continue the way this way.  He just could no longer bear witness to it or allow our girls to live in such an environment.
     All the details had been worked out. Tom would sell the house and he and the girls would move into a smaller place closer to his work. He would help me find an apartment suitable for the girls to come visit if they wanted to. In the meantime, I was to be in basement. He had fixed up like an in-law suite; for me but also to help the sale of the house.  Of course, if I did not like this arrangement I was free to go live with my mother or sister.
   This did not surprise me or hurt my feelings. Instead, I was empty.  I remember listening to him and thinking I should be sobbing and begging him for forgiveness, promising change or something. The truth was I had nothing. It was the strangest thing. I actually tuned him out to search for an emotion or even a thought.  I had no reaction. I was hollow.
  So, I apologized to him and said I would do whatever it was he felt would be best and I went to bed.

Journal Entry – unknown author

November 26, 2015


This will be my last entry.  I cannot change who I am or what I am.  I am what I am.  I drink. That is what I do. I use it as a reward at the end of a hard day. It is my escape, my handle on coping all that life throws me.  I did not drink during my pregnancies, so I know that I can stop.  But I don’t want to.

I have disappointed Tom and let my girls down.  I can no longer be that woman they expect me to be.  All I do right now is bring them pain, suffering and disappointment.  I know that their lives will be better without me. I don’t want to hurt them anymore. I don’t want to burden them anymore.  The sooner this is over the sooner they can have the fresh start they deserve.

Tomorrow I have a plan. I am going to make this right.



…continue Tom Wants To Talk.





Insights on life's little screts according to MLE Wright