before the trip
before the trip
Before a trip with F., I find myself thinking back on all the trips I’ve ever taken for the sake of someone else, or, if I were more of a romantic, I’d say "for the sake of love." I think about how, after those trips, things never turned out the way I’d imagined; how often I felt deeply sad afterward, and how long it took me to recover.
My mom found some photos and videos from 2016. Looking at myself back then, I felt such pity for myself; it was a terrible time. I think I was suffering from prolonged depression, yet I wasn't in therapy or part of any circle where I could talk about my feelings or what I was going through. I look at myself from ten years ago, I was so beautiful, and my body was beautiful, too, yet back then, I thought I was horribly fat and convinced myself I’d be alone forever.
Now, I don't think I’ll necessarily end up alone forever, but perhaps I’ll never have that one person with whom I spend the better part of my life. And maybe I’ll never have children. Or a home of my own. Or money. Strangely, none of this stirs any strong reaction in me; I feel nothing. Well, maybe it’ll happen, maybe not, we’ll see. I don't really feel like making a concerted effort to achieve any of that. I just want to do the small things I enjoy, and that’s it.
I think I really ought to see a therapist, but I’m not sure it would actually help. And I don’t know where to start.