Addiction: Depression

I am changing.I didn't spend ages hiding in the bathroom crying before,didn't spend hours applying make-up trying to hide my black eyes,didn't stay holed up in my room making excuses to explain my bruised arms,wasn't so anti-social that now the only place in a party for me seems to be in the corner,hiding.

If anyone were to see me,I am sure my life would look like a rehash of a bad addiction movie.Only for me the addiction seems to be Him.

I wasn't this girl before, was like any perfectly normal girl.Happy and content in my own uncomplicated world.And now it seem like a life time ago.A different lifetime ago when everything changed so much.

I remember painting my room to its now darkish purple hue to the extend that it looks almost back on my regular sunny plaster white walls.That was when the changes first started.His favourite dark colour in place of mine.And after that it was like I didn't notice.Everything just receded into a dull feeling on the side of my heart,as if I was watching someone else's life turning into this nightmare rather than my own.

I don't remember when he first asked me to switched my music taste from pretty Katy Perry to his dark Metallica songs.I didn't notice when I started preferring his dark clothes to my usual colorful ones to please him.His favourite food in place of mine, his friends instead of  mine, his favourite movies, his hobby, his routine.Everything his, nothing mine. 

His life,nothing mine.

He loves me,I suppose,in his own sick way.Like the way he brought me flowers in the hospital the day after I cut my wrist when I found out about the first of his women.The way he threw the vase containing the same flowers at me the same night screaming that it was all my fault.Everything always seems to be my fault.His affairs because I couldn't please him the way he wanted,his office frustration because I wasn't a good wife at Home,his boss's anger because I couldn't entertain his boss well.

I don't remember how things reached this stage,how things becomes so messed up.I was suppose to be smart.I was suppose to be know when to get out.I was suppose to listen to everyone who said he would be bad for me.A lots of I was suppose to, I suppose.But I didn't listen. Didn't notice a lot of things.Didn't do a lot of things.And now I can't seem to remember when I became so addicted to this dark depression,anything else seems to scare me.

He says the depression is also my fault,that he keeps me happy enough and I just try to twist everything up.And I suppose he will say this is also my fault,when he sees me in the bathroom floor with the empty pills and tequila bottles.I bet he will get angry.I bet he will scream in rage when the Doctors aren't able to bring me back.I know he will,I am just hoping I won't relive to see him rage this time.