He takes my apathy for life as apathy for us.

Some days, all I can do is cry anymore. I cry when I read the postsecret website, at sad commercials, when I see people experiencing the things that I want but cannot have. I cry when I am frustrated, after I am frustrated, during and after being angry. I cry when I am alone and sometimes when I am not. Then I have to look away, look down, go in the bathroom, the bedroom. Pretend that it is really irritation from my contacts that are making my eyes drip. Sad songs make me weep, and sometimes happy ones as well. I miss my medication. I miss not feeling angry so often, and then so painfully guilty for the anger I cannot control. I hate how lonely I feel. I hate missing the family in Montana because I was just there and it should have been enough. I hate that coming home to the man I love isn't enough. Nothing is enough. I find myself crying randomly for how alone and sad and empty I feel. I feel like a pathetic cliche. Alone and sad and empty.

I hate myself for not caring that the house is dirty, that dinner is cooked, that the laundry is more dirty than clean. I hate how guilty I feel that I don't care. I hate that even feeling so guilty I cant seem to make it any different.

I'm afraid. I have only been home for two days. I am not coping well. If I pretend that I am well, its a lie. If I don't.... What can I say? He takes my apathy for life as apathy for us.

Why, why, why isn't it better yet? I'm an adult. I have a college degree. Two of them. I cut off communication with my own personal abusive family member. I have people who love me. I have a wonderful dog. Despite all of this I am miserable. Two days ago I was hopeful, and now...
Obviously not.