I guess this is really just a cry for help. It reminds me of when someone threatens suicide, but they’re actually just looking for someone to tell them they matter—someone to listen and just hold their hand.
The point isn't to judge; the real issue here is this depression, which needs to be taken incredibly seriously. It can literally strip away any will to live, which makes everything you've shared make sense.
You say you don't want to change, but...
Nicholas Anderson said:My husband and I are living with my parents, and they’re basically pushing me out of the house because they think I’m lazy and spend my entire existence doing absolutely nothing; also, there’s the secondary issue where, out of pure spite, I actually sued my brother just to mess with his life because I can't stand him.
I’m pregnant, and an abortion isn't on the table because that would mean losing my husband, and besides, I don't think it would even bother me during those rare moments when I feel remotely "normal."
So, I suppose I have to accept that I'll be changing diapers, raising a child, and probably having to cook—which, despite my best efforts, I am terrible at since I can't seem to retain even the simplest recipe—because we can't just live off peanut butter sandwiches forever; even worse is the fact that a child needs parenting, yet I stubbornly refuse to even parent myself, which means I'll eventually have to care about how their day went, what happened at school (something I couldn't care less about even back when I was a student), who their friends are, and a whole host of other tedious things.
The whole idea is revolting to me, and if I'm being completely honest, I only want this baby for entirely selfish reasons.
My husband and I enrolled in this incredibly dead-end community college program, which clearly won't lead anywhere since someone will need to stay home with the baby, and I can't even think about getting a job because I'm still finishing high school and then there's the kid waiting for me.
Oh, and if it matters, I deal with depression and Bipolar Disorder; I've spent six months having my brain scrubbed by psychotherapy and medication, though I honestly fail to see the point of any of it.
I am so utterly broken that I've even considered ending it all simply out of sheer laziness, because life demands effort in every single sense, and I lack the willpower to even whip up a meal, let alone strive for anything meaningful; the boredom and the loneliness are just killing me, and I spend my days with no one to talk to, which might be for the best given how poorly I interact with people, and I know I'll end up being the worst mother in history because I just won't care—I even thought about pretending to care enough to stop smoking during the pregnancy.
Why am I even posting this? Because even a fool like me can see that this life is going nowhere, and the only real question is how much time I have before my husband kicks me to the curb too; my dad tells me I need to get help, but I don't really know how you "treat" a fundamental way of existing, and after six months of listening to the same nonsense in therapy that hasn't helped, I doubt it would help if they locked me up in a psychiatric ward for a month and repeated the same useless scripts.
Most days I just sit on my bed, staring blankly at the wall, lacking the energy to do anything at all, and I don't even have the desire to read or watch TV because I can't hold onto a single piece of information.
To be blunt, I feel sorry for my husband, and I feel sorry for this child who is going to have to be ashamed to tell anyone who their mother is.
I have tried so many times to act "normal," and every single time I've ended up looking like an idiot; after falling down and pulling myself up a thousand times, I just don't have the strength to get up anymore, and even after spending six months trying to cooperate with my psychiatrist to be a functioning person, she started allowing me to actually feel things, which caused me to crash even lower than I was before I ever started therapy, and then I'm supposed to just pull myself up again???
It feels like the only options left are to change or to die, and the former isn't an option right now; I've never been part of society, and I have no desire to start now, as I am fundamentally broken and feel this overwhelming urge to run away from everyone, which means leaving both my husband and the baby once they arrive, and I'm genuinely afraid that's exactly what I'll do.
Actually, I think this shows that you desperately *do* want to change, to live, and to function normally—to find the strength to just exist. It seems clear that you fall because every time you start therapy and let those emotions surface, it hurts, so you suppress them again. But maybe you have to let them explode. It might feel terrible at first, but I think relief and healing follow that.
People might be shocked when you say you want to walk away from everything—your husband, your child—but I suppose that's just how a mind works during true, deep depression.
Unless someone has lived through it, they probably can't understand; they can only judge.
Have you figured out what might be triggering this state?
How long have you been struggling with depression?
I see you're going to therapy, which means you've recognized there's a problem. To me, that suggests you care deeply about fixing this, despite saying you don't want to change.
If that weren't true, you wouldn't be posting here. If that were the case, you'd be one of those cold, calculating people who only cares about themselves and doesn't give a damn about their family,
but I don't think that's you.I know that after every setback, it gets harder to climb back up and you feel more exhausted. But I think you should be proud of yourself for doing it anyway. It's hell, and yet you're fighting your way out of it, clawing and kicking. Please, don't give up; be proud of every tiny bit of progress.
The fact that your family is pushing you out of the house because they think you're just being lazy... well, that just shows how little people understand this illness. Because it *is* an illness.
If you were accusing your brother out of pure malice, you wouldn't say you hate him. When someone acts out of pure spite, they don't usually feel love or hate; they just act.
So, why do you hate your brother? What was your relationship like growing up? How does your husband fit into all of this? How is he reacting to the situation?
There are many questions here, but I think you need to find the strength to answer them.
Nicholas Anderson said:My husband and I are living with my parents, and they’re basically pushing me out of the house because they think I’m lazy and spend my entire existence doing absolutely nothing; also, there’s the secondary issue where, out of pure spite, I actually sued my brother just to mess with his life because I can't stand him.
I’m pregnant, and an abortion isn't on the table because that would mean losing my husband, and besides, I don't think it would even bother me during those rare moments when I feel remotely "normal."
So, I suppose I have to accept that I'll be changing diapers, raising a child, and probably having to cook—which, despite my best efforts, I am terrible at since I can't seem to retain even the simplest recipe—because we can't just live off peanut butter sandwiches forever; even worse is the fact that a child needs parenting, yet I stubbornly refuse to even parent myself, which means I'll eventually have to care about how their day went, what happened at school (something I couldn't care less about even back when I was a student), who their friends are, and a whole host of other tedious things.
The whole idea is revolting to me, and if I'm being completely honest, I only want this baby for entirely selfish reasons.
My husband and I enrolled in this incredibly dead-end community college program, which clearly won't lead anywhere since someone will need to stay home with the baby, and I can't even think about getting a job because I'm still finishing high school and then there's the kid waiting for me.
Oh, and if it matters, I deal with depression and Bipolar Disorder; I've spent six months having my brain scrubbed by psychotherapy and medication, though I honestly fail to see the point of any of it.
I am so utterly broken that I've even considered ending it all simply out of sheer laziness, because life demands effort in every single sense, and I lack the willpower to even whip up a meal, let alone strive for anything meaningful; the boredom and the loneliness are just killing me, and I spend my days with no one to talk to, which might be for the best given how poorly I interact with people, and I know I'll end up being the worst mother in history because I just won't care—I even thought about pretending to care enough to stop smoking during the pregnancy.
Why am I even posting this? Because even a fool like me can see that this life is going nowhere, and the only real question is how much time I have before my husband kicks me to the curb too; my dad tells me I need to get help, but I don't really know how you "treat" a fundamental way of existing, and after six months of listening to the same nonsense in therapy that hasn't helped, I doubt it would help if they locked me up in a psychiatric ward for a month and repeated the same useless scripts.
Most days I just sit on my bed, staring blankly at the wall, lacking the energy to do anything at all, and I don't even have the desire to read or watch TV because I can't hold onto a single piece of information.
To be blunt, I feel sorry for my husband, and I feel sorry for this child who is going to have to be ashamed to tell anyone who their mother is.
I have tried so many times to act "normal," and every single time I've ended up looking like an idiot; after falling down and pulling myself up a thousand times, I just don't have the strength to get up anymore, and even after spending six months trying to cooperate with my psychiatrist to be a functioning person, she started allowing me to actually feel things, which caused me to crash even lower than I was before I ever started therapy, and then I'm supposed to just pull myself up again???
It feels like the only options left are to change or to die, and the former isn't an option right now; I've never been part of society, and I have no desire to start now, as I am fundamentally broken and feel this overwhelming urge to run away from everyone, which means leaving both my husband and the baby once they arrive, and I'm genuinely afraid that's exactly what I'll do.
What you just shared is what triggered the most backlash from people.
The logic seems to be that a future mother shouldn't talk this way, so people wonder where the maternal instinct and all those beautiful things everyone writes about have gone.🙄
Maybe don't dwell on it right now. It's all coming from fear, I guess,
because you aren't feeling like yourself.And yes, let’s not kid ourselves—it will be hard. But it isn't impossible to get through if you find good therapy. Once things start looking up, you’ll see your child in a whole different light, and they will likely be the one giving you the most strength. But you really have to seek treatment. Part of you feels broken, and it needs fixing. You can only do that with professional help first, and then eventually through your own willpower. Depression kills any sense of purpose and drains every bit of energy from your body, even though most people around you just mislabel it as laziness.
Please don't give up on yourself. Don't let others convince you that you're weak, lazy, or selfish
because that is the illness talking, not who you actually are.Good luck. Please keep writing and venting here; it might help you feel a little lighter.