I used to be a happy person

These days, not so much. I spend way too much time trying to find a hidden corner in which to cry.

I try to start projects only to have multiple interruptions from The Curmudgeon and the dogs. He has developed a passion for asking me stupid questions about TV shows I am not watching nor am I interested in them but I am busy doing other things. He could take to dogs out when they fuss when I’m busy, but once I am up he refuses to do anything except watch TV.

Therefore most of my projects are half done, half-assed, or barely begun.

Is there any wonder why I have a great tendency to throw up my arms and say, “Fuck it” so often?

Yes, I’m depressed. I am unhappy. Sad. Tearful. No I don’t want medication. I want a life. I want my partner back. I am sick of living with a lump who seems to get a perverse enjoyment out of driving me crazy.

fuck it

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About doggonedmysteries

Agented Mystery Writer, Bull Terrier owner --we have two, Avid gardener.

Posted on April 16, 2015, in Misc and tagged , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. 3 Comments.

  1. Just remember this: There are people who care about you, believe in you, have a shoulder you can lean on whenever you need it.
    We are always thinking about you, wishing you peace and comfort.
    We may not be able to cure what ails you, but we are always willing to listen and absorb some of your suffering.
    We are as near as the telephone or e-mail.

    I can’t help fix the things that bug you but any time you want to rant, vent, get something off your chest, or just need a friendly ear, I’m here for you.

  2. That pretty much says it all! But, stop and think … things aren’t as bad as they could be are they? I bet the glass is half full if you look at it again.

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