I’m irritated. I feel kind of betrayed. But I shouldn’t have expected him to understand my depression. After all, he is the same man that refuses to accept my sexual orientation because he hasn’t seen me pursue women romantically. It was foolish of me to think he would understand. After all, he is the same man that only sees things through his eyes only and refuses to get another opinion.
I don’t want to explain it to him. I know he’s going to find a way to make it about him. I know he’s going to give me the same advice I’ve been getting since I was first diagnosed. The same things that I’ve tried. The same things I gave up on. But in order to keep my sanity while living with him, I must explain it to him eventually.
But where do I even start? I don’t even fully understand it myself. And when do I start? There are so many events that lead up to me going to therapy for the first time and getting diagnosed. And my memory isn’t that great. I’m probably going to have to really rethink some events in my life. And that’s something I’m not sure if I’m prepared for.
I wish I would wake up from this nightmare…