Hopeless.

I have started this month of August feeling a bit weird. I have come to suspect that every time I feel trapped in my present, without hopes of doing what I really want to do in the job scenario, and slowly sinking in a depression I don’t want, I start to get in a past life mood from my Black Widow life. It wouldn’t be too bad if it was just me and myself, my thoughts, fantasies, emotions and dreams. I could spend a few days lost in my own world, barely talking and pretending I’m interested in some TV show or movie while I stare at the screen, lost in some old scenes coming from my mind and not from the TV set. Then I would decide it’s enough and I would be back in the real world, as if nothing had happened. But it’s not that easy when those past life emotions affect your relationship with your partner, who doesn’t understand why all of a sudden you don’t want to go out or don’t care about the plans for the weekend.

“What’s up with you?”

“Nothing, I’m just imagining myself in an old bathtub thinking how to slit my wrists, as I got married and this is not what I thought it would be”.

And if he demands some attention it’s even worse, as then he makes me feel as an enslaved wife whose only duty is to make him happy... and that triggers me even more. I go to bed thinking the slight discomfort in my right eye could be due to a reflection of my past life when I got it black. As I fall asleep I can only see the white gown I was wearing in my wedding night. I can still feel the fear of a maiden, the bitterness of a young girl who liked a different suitor, my heart pierced with his first threats. And it seems all this is because the prospect of being “just a wife” for the rest of my life brings me the same feeling of hopelessness, a dark sense of foreboding that tells me “This can’t go right. Don’t let it happen again. Just run!”

Well, it looks like I can’t choose. No matter how much I try, for now my plans are always unattainable. I don’t know whether I dream too much or my wits are not enough to make those dreams come true. Maybe the Universe is punishing me for being evil with my past life husband. In this case I wonder how the Universe is punishing him for being a son of a bitch with me. No need to say I don’t believe in any of these possibilities. Or maybe I chose a crappy country and a crappy profession to ensure I would remain unemployed for half of my life, so that I learn to be imprisoned in my own home and feel happy for being a great cook. Is that something worth learning? No need to say I don’t believe that’s the point. Whatever it is though, the Universe can’t prevent me from wanting to escape through a window again.

It’s hard to come back to reality and remember things are different today: my partner is not a monster and I’m not a victim of female roles or a sexist society. It’s hard to remember I just find myself in certain circumstances and it’s my decision to deal with them one way or the other. Sometimes it feels right to have the wisdom of several past lives on my shoulders. But other times I just feel tempted to follow the same path of self-destruction. When I've become tired of what the world can offer me, does it matter if I decide to get off, even if it's just for a little while?