Afraid Of Commitment

Just having registered with a GP has made me feel better. Like the first step to recovery.

I didn’t speak to Thabo for an entire day after he came home late from drinks. Then I cried and told him about my depression and my plans to attend a GP to put me on medication. He had no idea about the depth of my despair. I hope he understands that it was nothing he did or can do. Even moving back home would probably make little difference because this feeling has been with me for so long a time. It was cathartic, somewhat.

I feel better now, comparatively. Thabo leaves for Australia in two days for a couple of weeks. These last few days have been good spending quality time together. I don’t know if it will last (the feeling of well-being, that is). I’m unsure now about SSRIs – it feels like a decision of commitment and it will be for at least six months. Tomorrow is a work day. Nothing like St Muff's to jolt me back to the cesspool of shit.