I Wasn't Always Broken

That was something I said to Master yesterday.

You see, I didn't do my blog post last night because we were busy talking, and then fucking.

Our day had started off well yesterday. I was in a fine mood, and we had fucked, and everything was fine.

Then we went to dinner.

All of a sudden my mood took a dive. I was going into that dark place in my head that is strictly reserved for depression. There's a red velvet rope and everything.

Okay, enough joking.

I honestly don't know what brings these sudden dives in my mood and demeanor on. I have no idea. None. But it happened, and the next thing you know Master and I are arguing. Why are we arguing? Because when I take those sudden dives I suddenly get defensive, and bitchy and well.. just get a fuck you attitude to me. Again, I'm not sure why. Maybe it's a self defense mechanism? Maybe it's me lashing out because I'm confused as to why the hell I'm heading that way again. Maybe it's because I don't realize it at first.

But once we got home He told me that that's what He thought it was. That I was taking a dive towards my depressive state again. And it made me break down. Talking about it is not easy for me. There is a certain stigma associated with mental disorders. And it's not good. So finally, when I allowed myself to talk freely and to cry, and just to let it out I said to Him, "I wasn't always broken."

And that made me cry harder. Because I haven't always suffered from depression. It started when I was about 14. And it's not a constant battle, but it is getting worse as I get older. I have periods of time where I'm fine. I'm in a great mood, or at least a normal mood, and then out of fucking no where here comes that shadow creeping along my brain and bringing with it thoughts I would never have other wise. Thoughts that I only have when my depression hits. Dark thoughts. Very bad thoughts.

And I told Him about them all, even the ones I have never said out loud when I'm alone. I said it then and there for the first time, ever. I won't go into them here, but it's enough that I said them. And it was enough that He listened. And then I said another thing that I didn't think I'd ever admit to. I told Him that I think I need medication. Thankfully my new medical insurance, that will be kicking in next week will cover a psychiatrist. So that's another thing I'll have to add to the list of things to do once my insurance is available.

He agreed that I probably need medication.

He also said that I have to be more consistent. It seems like the only thing I can be consistent with is my job. Every thing else I'll do for a little while, and then let it drop... right around the time these moods hit me. And Master pinpointed it rather well last night. He said that it happens about once every three months and lasts for varying amounts of time.

But I don't want my family to know, and I don't want His family to know. I'd rather our friends didn't either. I know some people will probably say, "That's just going to make you feel worse, like you have to hide it.." and I don't think that's true. I think that sometimes seeking help is a very private thing. I want the only people to know about it to be Master, my therapist, and myself.. and well obviously my readers. But it's different typing it out on a blog, rather than going to my friends, family, and/or in-laws and going "Yeah... I'm in therapy. I'm on medication."

I just... don't want to deal with that. I really don't. Especially from certain people within said groups.

He reminded me that He loves me, will always love me, and that it's hard on Him too. He knows He can't help besides just being there, and that makes Him feel helpless. He sees me struggling, and He sees me hurting from this, and it's like His hands are tied. And I am sorry for that. I don't mean to cause Him pain, or to make Him feel this way. But it just goes to show you how much someone truly loves you, when they are willing to go through this kind of shit with you, just to be with you and have you in their life.

I love Him so much.

After the long talk, and after I stopped crying, we fucked again. And it was amazing.

Today, after work, I came home and Master asked me how I was feeling and I told Him quite honestly that I feel great. I kept myself busy this evening. After dinner we cleaned one of the rabbit cages, took out garbage, and then I did the dishes and cleaned the kitchen counter. Keeping myself busy instead of having a lot of down time where I'm basically just sitting there seems to help. As long as my mind is busy I seem to be able to keep a better grip. And it also makes me feel like I accomplished something, which is always a bonus.

So there you have it. I wasn't always broken. And hopefully soon, I'll be back on track with a good psychiatrist and maybe some happy pills.

But before I end this post I just want to say that my Husband fucking rocks hard core. And I love Him to the very depths of my soul.