Sometimes I feel like he cared for me so much that he let me start to influence his choices fairly quickly.

He used to work out everyday. He barely ate meat. He was in really good shape.

He seemed financially stable. Keeping in mind I didn’t know him very well so that just could have been my outward perception. But he always left me under the impression that money wasn’t a issue of his.

I feel like as he gained feeling for me he stopped doing the things he enjoyed like everything was about me. At the very same time I know he enjoys being with me. I have to say I noticed coupled with some slight distrusts in me I felt sometimes like he knew he had other things he could do but he would give that up because yes he wanted to be with me but he almost found it less stressful to know what I’m doing and disregard what he was doing generally before he met me. Then go do the thing and then wonder what or where I was…this was probably a little over a month into dating him.

Sometimes I felt like in order to “make me happy” he would spend amounts of money that now in hindsight he probably shouldn’t have.

Yes these were all his choices but I don’t know I sometimes feel responsible.

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Yeah my ability to not harp on the negative yet exist within it I guess is a assumed trait from my childhood. “Nobody likes a complainer”, especially when there is no change in motion. So to me why complain about something that I am not doing anything to actively change. Its annoying for me to even hear out loud as I say it so I am sure anyone listening would assume the same.

I don’t know; I hate being a downer. That’s just never been who I am; aside from my extreme want to do nothing more and more everyday. That’s not to say of course that I was never in a bad mood, just I am never the person to put myself in a position to be around others socially and be bitter becky. I would just stay home…to say the least I stay home a lot now. I don’t feel good enough mentally to exist with my friends and other people and offer the same energy as I used to; just fun and carefree.

I feel like a lot of people wouldn’t understand where my depression stems from or they don’t care and find my reasons to be a cop out or invalid or the many reasons why society brushes its shoulder at people with depression. Especially African Americans. Its just not taken as seriously. Which is more frustrating than anything; trying to convince people of what is clearly in front of their faces. I am clearly not ok.

At the same time I know EVERYTHING can be worse; that “someone always has it worse than you” mantra always plays in the back of my head while someone tries to understand how a person like me has most likely a more than just acute motions of life of depression. My boyfriend has even said “What do you have to stress about, I don’t get it” Not to say he dismisses it, but that was his first reaction.

So I mostly just don’t talk about it, even though many of my (daily) choices clearly reflect it. Sometimes I breakdown when I let it all in but in the end I feel like if I harped on it, it’d make me feel worse.