My brothers girlfriend took her own life.

But everyone keeps on living.

She was never a person I would’ve assumed would take her own life. But how often do we see it coming? Someone is miserable but an expert at hiding it. Or we aren’t listening hard enough.

It made me think. How many happy women do I know? And I can’t name one.

I can’t.

I feel like Betty Draper in Mad Men. At least the first seasons. I have everything but still nothing. I should be happy but I’m not.

My sister is drowning in an angry relationship that is causing her to be extremely overweight and extremely snappy at people.

My mother is drinking too much to drown whatever daemons are plaguing her. She loves her husband but she’s torn between the different countries he lives in and never has time to just sit down and relax.

My friends are getting divorced, or becoming a family wife, resentfully taking care of everything, or unable to find their path. One is extremely unhappy with their work but unsatisfied with going back to school to finish her degree.

I don’t know happy women. But I though she was happy. Even if she wasn’t extremely happy, she was strong, beautiful and so smart. I never saw it coming. And I can read people. Obviously I saw she was sad but I underestimated how sad and now I feel so phony. I thought I was a good friend, and I just got it proven that I’m not. I can’t be there for those who I hold close. I can’t even be there for myself.

My parents, was special. Are special. Depending on which one I refer to.

Growing up with my parents weren’t easy but it wasn’t hard either. My mother is a strong woman, who knows how to get her needs across. In some ways that was both positive and negative growing up.

As a woman, having a strong woman raise you is bound to give you a sense of strength and pride in yourself but as a child trying to get along with other kids, having your mother dominate the community you live in can be extremely stressful. Especially if you live in a community abundant with men who aren’t accustomed to listen to a woman. My mother however earned their respect.

My dad on the other hand wasn’t as strong, at least not in their relationship. Don’t get me wrong, my dad wasn’t weak, he just couldn’t hold a candle to my mother. My mother the superwoman. Or so she seemed.

They were married for 20 years, of which I remember hearing my mother wanting a divorce for at least ten. Ten years of understanding that my mother was unhappy and that my father tried to please her but just not didn’t try hard enough (or was unable to please her). He loved her I am sure.

My father died five years ago. He and mom had been divorced for five years. I remember him crying when he laid in a hospital bed and received a call from my mother that she didn’t have the time to see him just then. She did however sit with him when he passed away.

My father was 24 when he married my mother (she was then 30). My mom always says, if we had been business partners we’d be millionaires because we are a well oiled machine. And I have to agree. We never lacked anything. We never noticed the period when both were out of jobs and we were brought up to be well adjusted individuals. Intelligent, well fed, funny, compassionate individuals. But we were bruised when it came to relationships. Especially me and my sister.

We watched our parents, they hardly hugged, they rarely kissed. They were usually civil. Sometimes they fought. My mother was miserable. She was dominant in everything she did, she didn’t want to rule our house.

I love my mother. She is still alive. When dad was alive I would call him, crying after another fight with mum and he would tell me You clash because you are so alike. I miss my dad everyday. I wish I had spent more time with him, told him I loved him more often. I wish I had forgiven him everything I felt he needed to be forgiven of. My mother is still the strong one. She is remarried and happy. She is like a best friend and a mother at the same time. I wouldn’t bare losing her too.

Read the entire list over here.

I fear that I’m pregnant and I’m ambivalent about how I feel.

I only have a few months left of school and I was looking forward to working, earning money. Having money. I miss that feeling. Being able to afford normal things and not turning every penny. If I’m pregnant I wont be able to work for another year.

I don’t want a kid. They are cute and cuddly and I bet I would love my child just as much as the next mother, but I don’t want a child. Not now and maybe never. I don’t want to be restrained and I was finally okay with feeling and thinking about being childless forever. We were going to be happy anyway.

But one of my biggest reasons for not wanting a child was that he didn’t want a child and now he’s acting all cool and happy and saying we will find out soon enough if I’m pregnant or not. And I just want to understand, is this a true reaction, was all that other stuff only lies? Or is he hiding his true intentions? Is he walking out my door cursing on the inside?

He hides his sugar addiction and all I want to scream See me and my addiction, see me drown and yet validate the times I feel I need it, because I always need it… and yet I end up taking care of him, when I am the one drowning, the one dying the one who will not be here if this continues…

There he was, smiling again at the screen.

Laughing out loud but wont share the fun. He will tell me titbits, he will explain some parts.

So I joined. I sat in the same room. I ended up taking over. A room full of men tend to give the girl attention.

All of a sudden the shoe is on the other foot. If there are two females and a hundred men. Females will get the attention. He didn’t like it, he didn’t want me to get it. All of a sudden his friends were my friends and I had taken over.

I would be mad too, and I’d cared if I wasn’t so frustrated by it. By him smiling at the screen, at watching young women showing more than they should.

Now he sulks and now he complains.

I guess he didn’t like to wear my shoes.