Friday, December 30, 2011
Every single day I've went to work. Came home on my split and went to bed. Went back to work 3 hours later. Came home from work 4-5 hours later and went to bed. Nearly every single evening I've been in bed by 8:30pm at the latest. Most evenings even before that. It is 9:10pm and I'm dying. Serious....I feel like I am going to pass out I am sooooooo exhausted.
Did I mention......I'm exhausted.
I'm headed to bed. I report to work at 6:57am. That seems SOOOO late to me. Most days I'm reporting at 5:00 or 5:20am. That extra hour and half will be wonderful in the realm of sleeping!!
Then again, it was freezing rain on my way home and that may require that leave early. Anyway I look at it....I still get to sleep in.
Oh' the joys of having a "late" day.
Wednesday, December 28, 2011
Several days of pretty ok days. Fleeting moments here and there. And then the sliding begins.
I don't want to talk to anyone.
I don't want to see anyone.
I don't want to drag my ass out of bed at 3:30am to go to work.
I am trapped.
There is no choice in the matter. I have 2 look and talk to people. That is my job. I have to get ot of bed bc I will loose my job if I don't. And today....as I'm sliding down the slippery slope....it is hard, VERY HARD, to just not say f*ck it and stay in bed. When I'm done with my morning shift....I will slide right back nto bed.
Monday, December 26, 2011
Friday, December 23, 2011
So that when I get crabby and stressed and panic driven (it isn't even Sunday and I'm aleady about to stress the hell out) I can stick the mistletoe in my back pocket and tell my SIL to kiss my ever loving fat @ss!
I warned you...I was trying to be nice. I lost my nice-ness about an hour ago on my way home from work. I sat in my car crying to be very honest.
Thursday, December 22, 2011
If I didn't have to work at 5am....
I would take something...anything....I'm freeking desparate.
I will not be able to take a nap in between my work shifts in the morning.
I have a therapy appt and a chiro appt. Lord only knows I need the chiro appt. My fat ass when flying on a bunch of rocks yesterday...thus one of the reasons why I'm awake bc I hurt. Everywhere.
The other....stressing. Over chit I can't control. Like my mom making stupid comments about my brother being depressed. Telling me my "Saving for Therapy" banks are politically incorrect. Fuck that. I didn't tell her to take them to work. Quite honestly, I've think one of those lil' banks woudl look very cute in a therapist office. I think I should give my mom one for Christmas and tell her she should put it in her office. Her patients might think it was cute. Or not. I don't really give a crap.
Holy hell I'm tired.
Wednesday, December 21, 2011
And then I find pictures such as the one below and think...my psychiatrist really doesn't know WTH she is talking about. She has no clue that I really do need medication to help control the urge to beat the living hell out of someome....such as the man I'm married to.
Needless to say, I do believe a domestic violence charge against me would probably end up costing my job. I can't afford that right now.
Then again, the picture below.....is yet another reminder my psychiatrist really doesn't know WTH she is talking about. She has no clue that I really do need medication to help control the urge to beat the living hell out of someone...such as the customer that hit my bus w/her cane today bc I wouldn't stop for her. Better yet, the customer that was so effn falling down drunk he couldn't follow simple directions until I freeked out and started screaming. I didn't have anything to throw...or I might have thrown something at him. (Just ask my dh....he learned the hard way last night.)
Tuesday, December 20, 2011
Somewhere on my computer I have a picture that says:
"Freak Out and Throw Shit"
Yeah, that picture would require me to look for it; in order to include it to this post.
That would be about where I'm at...at the precise moment. Actually, I'm laying in bed blogging on my phone.
However, a little bit ago someone freaked the hell out and threw shit. Not a stellar moment on my day that is for sure.
Instead, I didn't say a word.
I'm still onry.
I'm still snarky.
I'm in one of those funks where I want to pick a fight.
I have no more days off until Sunday.
Sunday is Christmas.
I have not wrapped even ONE present. I have no desire to wrap ANY presents. I have earings and necklaces that need to be finished.
Quite frankly, I don't give a crap.
My heart sunk into a pit of grief on Sunday evening as I was asked several times by a small town cashier if I was ___'s Mom. I'm not ___'s mom anymore. And many days, I am able to talk about it, say no, stand up for myself and just not let it effect me. If the gal would not have continued to insist that I was his mom, I wouldn't have been bothered. However, as the last couple days have transpired. It has stung a lil bit more. Like opening a bottle of salt and pouring it on an open wound.
My 9 year old stood up for me. Looking at me and then at the cashier of the 'small town restraunt' and told her "You really should mind your own business and stop being nosey. My mom gets pissed off when people are nosey." (Or something like that). Bless his lil heart.
Then last nights topic at group...just opened that wound up a lil bit more. "What is it that you value in life?" And what are you doing to "make those values" be top priority.
One of the top things that I value is parenting. And parenting hasn't been the most positive events in my life. Sure, my bio children are attached, secure, and beautiful young people. The oldest, adopted child....well not so much. Having been judged and ridiculed by everybody from my own parents, in-laws, siblings, other family members and then nearly every.single.professional person involved...judged me. Not my husband. Me.
And today; that hurts.
Friday, December 16, 2011
Thursday, December 15, 2011
There is no set reasoning...
Some days are good.
Some days are bad.
Some days are really good.
Some days are really bad.
Some days are really....really...really bad!
The is no rhyme to it.
It is what is on most days.
It is a really really bad day!
I don't feel good.
I was called by my PCP to check in. She gave me the 5th degree about taking a medication I know I'm not supposed take. And at this moment...and the moment she told me....I don't give a fly f*ck. I don't care what the side effects are and how they are potentially life altering/threatening!
As I said...today is a really bad day. I have not had the energy nor give a shit to update facebook, return my mothers call re: my son and how he is doing, or anything else that I need to do. Tonight, as I lay my head on my pillow...my hope and prayer will be for a better day tmw or just don't even wake up.
Wednesday, December 14, 2011
If you are the praying type...
My family needs prayers this evening. As I head to bed, I'm having another wave of severe pain in my abdomen and shoulder blade on same side. I have a slight fever to go along with it.
My lil guy....is very ill. Even though he is so sick he is insisting on going to school tmw. He told me " mom...i have way to much shit to do. There is no way I can miss 2 days of school". If I don't tell my teacher I'm sick she will never know.
My response was....buddy tht shit will still be there when you get better. You are NOT going to school!!
He has a high fever. Meds brought it down for about an hour. Then it came back full force. Dang it!!
I need to go back to work. I can't afford to be sick....yet I hurt so incredible bad I just want to cry....or....puke.
My husband wasn't to impressed with the choice words I had to say prior to hanging up. Telling me in his rather un-supportive ways that I shouldn't swear. Umm, just about anyone that knows me knows....that is really the opposite thing to do when I'm upset, sick, or just plain in general!! Hell, my therapist and I have a 4 yr relationship....she knows that. She even pointed it out yesterday when I saw her. You would think the man that I've slept in the same bed nearly every single night for the last 18 years...he would know. Dumbass. Needless to say: I informed him where/when/how he could go. Along with if I didn't hear my son stop crying over schoolwork in .02 seconds there was going to be hell to pay.
You see....not only am I sick. My 9 year old has pneumonia. And had we waited a day or two; he would have bacterial pneumonia.
So I'm sick.
My son is very sick.
My husband thinks he is sick bc I am sick. (That is an ongoing issue in our house!!!)
And I have to go back to work. I have no damn clue how. Seriously, I can't even fathom driving a bus in the amount of pain that I am in right now.
I know I'm twisted! I don't need to have internal organs decide to twist themselves! !
I had a horrid migraine most of yesterday.
Went to work last night and abt 1/2 way into my 3 hour work piece I started having severe abdominal pain. So much so that I broke out in sweat and was dry heaving bc of it.
If I wasnt missing part of the parts needed....I would have guessed I was in labor.
This morning it continues.
I go back for a pelvic ultrasound in 3 hours bc the Dr believes I have a twisted ovary.
Tuesday, December 13, 2011
I have had a few people let me know the video isn't showing properly. When I sign in it is showing up and then when I sign into a different account it isn't.
By any means...if you scroll to the bottom of the page on the right hand side of the sidebar the video is there also.
Monday, December 12, 2011
Several weeks ago during a sleepless night the above video spoke volumes to my heart.
It was an evening where there was no hope. There was no understanding or comforting. It was simply an evening where I needed some sort of hope....and this what I needed to hear that evening.
It didn't take away the hurt and pain.
It just happened lessen the pain and suffereing that particular moment.
I'm not sure what to think.
I'm not sure what to feel.
This morning I decided to go into uncharted territory in the realm of massage. This type of massage was what initially drew my attention to this particular massage therapist. However, it has taken me 6 months to get up the nerve to actually go there and experience this type of gentle, subtle massage. I have seen this massage therapist regularly for the last 6 months. Generally, I've gone to see her bi-weekly. However, in cases such as the last 6 weeks, I've seen her more often.
Raindrop Massage is much different than anything I have ever experienced. I found it to be very gentle and quite subtle, but the impact so far has been very deep and powerful. It is incredibly relaxing - in a different way from other bodywork that is difficult to put words to and simply needs to be experienced.
Sunday, December 11, 2011
...... about my Grandmother today!!!
My grandma suffered with severe depression. As a little girl I didn't know what it was. I didn't know why she would go on violent rages. I don't remember much past one of her really bad break downs where she broke every dish in the house. We lived on the farm next to my grandparents until I was 12 yrs old.
She was hospitalized in psych unit shortly after her youngest was born.
Often when she was having a really bad day she would walk around singing this song and another one of my favorites.
As I mentioned in an earlier post this morning, I woke up panicked and having had nightmares, again. This has been a very common theme for several months.
I've struggled today with not wanting to freek out and throw sh*t. I guess, that would be one of the reasons I remember my grandma on days like today. Thinking hard and fast that "I am not her. I don't want to be her. I don't want to leave that legacy for my children". And so, I remember things like this song. One that I can't listen to w/o sobbing.
If we ever had another baby girl or would have been able to adopt a little girl.....We would have had a Lil' Rosie. I'm sooooooo very thankful my daughter only knows the Wondeful Grandma Rose! And I'm able to have the memories of my sweet baby girl helping feed and take care of her Great Grandma in her last days. Those are the precious memories that I pray to keep w/me on hard days like today.
Several months ago, one of my sweet soul sisters posted this on my FB page or her blog post. I can't remember. Regardless, it spoke volumes to my heart on a day that I really needed it.
It has been several months since I've heard or even thought about this song.
I woke up in a deep sweat and rather panicky in the night. Frustrated, crying, and just plain upset with thoughts of..."here it is my flippen day off...the ONE day I can sleep past 3:45am...and I have to wake up from a horrible nightmare." As I laid there fighting back the tears and praying that I could just go back to sleep...I remembered the words to this song.
It's going to be alright!
I don't know when.
I don't know where.
I don't know how.
But....it will be. Somehow, I will get past this dark place that I've been in.
Yesterday was a better day. Almost like I had a high and couldn't seem to get past that. And here it is nearing 4:30am and I'm struggling with not getting in my car and driving off. I don't know where I would drive to so I will just stay home. And try to remember...."It's Going to Be Alright".
Saturday, December 10, 2011
It is not a good idea to leave all three nail clippers in your car while you are working.
If you are going to do that be sure and clip your nails so there is no possible way you can pick them.
After you have picked them raw....stop! JUST STOP!!
I've picked my nails so incredible bad today they hurt. I do it and don't even realize it until it is to late. Gotta love...um i mean hate...anxiety!
For the love of all that is holy......it hurts!
Another reminder: clip your toenails short. Very very very short!
Swearing tends to be a cause for disagreement, frustration, arguement, all around pissed-off-ness among myself and my husband.
My dh rarely swears.
The thing that frustrates me about my husband and my swearing is this: He chooses the wrong freeking time to tell me to stop.
The more depressed I am. The more I swear.
The more suicidal I am. The more every other word out of my mouth starts with F and ends with a K (or G).
Honestly, it happens even when I'm not depressed or suicidal.
Telling me not to swear when it is all I can do to not drive my car into the median, walk out in front of a bus, or just plain don't want to live any longer is like adding salt to an already horrific wound.
Conversation usually goes something like this:
Me: F*cking idiot get out of the damn intersection.
DH: Watch what you say.
Me: You telling me to watch what I say?
DH: Yes. Just because some idiot doesn't know how to drive doesn't mean you have to call them an Effing Idiot (not he doesn't say the F word).
Me: Well they are.
DH: You still can choose other words.
Me: You telling me not to say F*
Me: Well F*ck you.
DH: Stop! That's not called for.
Me: F*ck you and the horse you rode in on. You don't like it get out of the car.
DH: Really, you need to have this arguement w/me?
Me: F*ck off. You should know after 18 yrs one of the worst things you can do it to tell me not to swear. You know I will tell you to F*ck yourself in the process. So shut the hell up or get out of the car.
And then...we sit in dead silence.
Not addressing the issue.
Not addressing it later when I'm in a better space to discuss it.
Not doing anything but pretending it didn't happen.
But it did. And I know it is a source of contention. And I know it pisses him off. Just like I know that the damn baseball hanging in my f*cking garage....it pisses him off when I park my car 'a lil to far to the left....'. So...I do it on purpose. It's one of those things where if you harp at me.....long enough.....and annoy me....I'm just gonna do it to piss you off.
Now the swearing thing...I try hard to not swear. Honestly, you might not believe me. However, I do. I really do.
And this week while I was working. Even though, it was all I could do NOT to just walk and/or drive right out into oncoming traffic....Dear Lord....I can't even begin tell you how obsessive and intrusive and constant those thoughts were.....I STILL TRIED very hard not to swear. In my head....I was f* everything. On my blog post a few days ago.....I warned the very few readers I have (and tons of spammers...dear lord if you don't stop sending me spam comments I'm gonna really say f*ck in a reply and f*ck'n take ur heads off). However, I did not saw much other than "Oh' Dear Lord" or call someone an idiot (not to their face) outloud.
That would be....until today!!
OH MY F*CKING HELL!! Today wasn't really a bad day at work. Today was a rather bad day at work. Traffic is bad. People are stupid. I have a no-bull-shit tolerance on most days.
By 9am...I had swore a tad to much. I thought to myself; "you need to stop. take a deep breathe". Heck, I even took several really deep breathes and had a customer make a comment about it. I replied with "You see all the idiots out there...this deep breathing is keeping me from taking every single one of their freeking heads off....and trying to curb the need to call every single one of them an 'effing idiot'. " She laughed hysterically.
Then....not even 5 minutes later I hear....."Thud....Thud....Thud" and I look back. And I see and hear more "thud thud thud" and I say under my breathe "aww f*ck". I secure the coach. I get out of my seat. And I'm pissed. REALLY pissed. And the drunk SOB who went 'thud thud thud' starts throwing out the F* bomb at me. Oh hell no. I'm not gonna go there.
And then....I said a lil' saying my dear friend S* says. I didn't' even catch it. Several of my passengers did and I hear a roaring chuckle. I'm not chuckling.
I say it again...."Sir you're gonna piss my shit off if you don't shut up, get up and get off the bus".
and I say it again....at least 3-4 times.
I get back in my seat. I hear one lady say "Uh, I like that piss my shit off" I think "good like it...shut up". I'm still pissed.
About 5 minutes later I think....."awww.....my friend S*....she was with me today as I lost my cool on drunk man #1".
I had several more drunks. One who triggered some more deep breathing and "he's just a passenger. he will get off. don't look at him. you are safe' montra over and over and over.
I hope and pray....it is a while before I have a day full of drunks again!!!
Friday, December 9, 2011
I'm not a fan of medication. Of any kind. However, occasionally I break down and take them. And, this last bought of up and down and all around freeking depression, suicidal ideation and more than just thinking about it....its all been since starting/stopping/changing/stopping, ect ect with antidepressants. Its been a majority of the last 9 months. And the last 9 months have been hell. And the last 4 months...omg and the last 2....and the last week....and...and...IT HAS
GOT TO FREEKING STOP!
Since my psychiatrist refuses to try ANY other antidepressant ...but wants me on the one med Ive been on for several years once she believes it 'holds me over'.....
I have decided to stop EVERYTHING! I am done with medication right now. She wanted me stopping the welbutrin and continue takings lamictal. I'm DONE! I told her yesterday I wasnt going to take it. She made some snide comment about not being able to make me take anything. Wanting to know why and I told her why. It obviously isn't freeking doing anything bc of it was I wouldn't be having the constant invasive thinking that I am. She somewhat agreed. I really don't give a shit if she agrees or not.
I'm pissed all over again as I think about the comment she made to me. I don't know that I will blog about it or not....I guess until I'm in a better space I will not.
I'm struggling tonight. I have struggled most of this week and end of last week. Tonight is no different. Worse to be honest. I want so badly to break out of this cycle, to enjoy my children, to enjoy a meal with my family, finish decorating our home for the holidays. I have done none of it. My husband has. I have came home every evening this week and went to my bed. Don't sleep. It is a tough cycle to break.
I should be clear.....I'm not specifically pissed at my pdoc. More at tue system. At life. At everything. She just happens to piss me off on top of everything else.
It took every once of my energy to come to work. I did so by telling myself I could stay home this afternoon if I needed.
I hurt everywhere. That is what stress does to you. That is what being on such a low place does, I guess.
Thursday, December 8, 2011
My follow up appt today went as I expected. Fucktastic!
I'm pissed. PISSED. Fucking PISSED.
I sat for over an hour in my car after my appt today with my psychiatrist.
RAGING F*CKING MAD!!!
If I didn't have to work, hadn't already missed 10 hrs last week unpaid, and got myself in trouble bc I had a fucking tizzy ass fit and didn't make it to work OR call in....I WOULD STILL BE SITTING THERE!!
Because SITTING THERE....I can scream and cry and be fucking mad.
I can't scream, cry and rage when I walk in my doors of my house or work.
Yes, being the bread-winner of my family has added stress. Just ask my psychiatrist...she knows that. She states it. She gives me her thoughts and quite fucking honestly she can shove them up her ass. And because of that fucking stress....of loosing my job AND loosing my health insurance....I had to go to work today. I dont' know how many days I can keep this up. I really don't. Then what?
Obviously, therapy isn't going to help or fix this shit. It is up to me. Obviously, I'm not doing my part. I guess fucking not. I guess the fact that I threw the bottle of meds at the cupboard and up so I couldn't reach them wasn't doing my part or using the tools that I have been given. I guess, going to work....when all I can think about is just walking out infront of a car...is not using the tools. And so i'm not doing my part. According to my dr. today....I should be able to kick this w/o medication bc I dont' hear voices and other stupid shit she said.
Today's appt reminded me of what I have been subject to in other medical related issues w/my PCP's office from time to time. Specifically, the gastric bypass team members. Dismissed. Diminished.
This is so fucking unfair!
Tuesday, December 6, 2011
I'm doubting every single thing.
My marriage. Is my husband being honest with me? What abt xyz? I'm certain that he's not being truthful.
My ability to parent. My son screams hysterically tonight bc his dad was not here to tuck him in. My daughter...I don't even know her anymore. I tell her goodnight and I love her. She responds with nothing. That hurts. My kids prefer their dad over me. That hurts. Deep.
My desire to he aroind other people is nothing!
I have no desire to look up airfares for my trip to Orlando on March. I don't even know that I want to go. I can't stand to be around me. Why would I expect anyone else to?
Monday, December 5, 2011
Church yesterday was pretty much just as ugly. My husband was given a calling. After he was asked if he would accept the 2nd Counselor turned to me and told me I was next. And that the bishopric had been and will continue to pray about which calling in the Ward would be best for me. Very subtle I turned to him and said "now is not a good time for me to have a calling". He didn't like that response I gather.
I left shortly after that and then came back towards the end. As I sat in the foyer the same person came up to me and talked to me a 'bit more' about receiving a calling. Receiving blessings from accepting callings. And a ton of other mumbo jumbo. I made it very clear, with out going into details (because remember.....in my everyday life I try very hard to keep this shit at bay and no where near the surface) that right now is NOT a good time for me. I can barely function enough to work. And having any more responsibility at this time is not something I am willing to accept. He continued w/the church standpoint and the common Church standpoint on callings. It was clear he doesn't get it. And he wasn't hearing me. I get and understand and have LIVED the blessing that come from serving other members of our congregation in different callings. However, I know beyond a shadow of a doubt it is NOT to be now!
As we left church and headed to town to meet w/a friend for her birthday; I mentioned to my husband what Brother H had said after he went to his Priesthood meetings. My husband knows that functioning for me right now is at bare minimum. And adding any extra ounce of anything would be catastrophic. He shook his head and very bluntly said "NO...You don't need a calling. You need to get better". At least, I know I will have his support in this manner.
Then as the day progressed and I thought about this conversation. I thought about the root and beliefs that my religion has on callings....good ol' guilt started to creep in. And boy is there nothing better to fuel my (or anyone) depression than guilt.
I'm already pulling out every single tool, every single stop, every single thing that several years of therapy have drilled in my head......and I'm still in this rotten f*cking place. I've taken my meds as I should. I missed a dose over the weekend. I did end up taking them last night. However, sometimes missing ONE dose is better than what the alternative was at that moment when I decided to throw the damn bottle on top of the bathroom cupboard so that I couldn't get it down w/o much thought/planning and energy. There was one of two alternatives at the moment I did that. That was the lesser of two evils.
A place where every ounce of my body hurts. Because this fucking battle is taking its toll. And today, it has taken its toll on my body. Complete and udder control. I hurt. Everywhere.
I can't keep it up anymore. Despite keeping up and working to the best of my ability (sure some could disagree), I can't seem to kick this. I have no clue if I will make it to group tonight. I have no clue what lies beyond "publish" of this post. I do know I am still in my robe. I do know that after publish on this post I will be turning my computer and phone off and head back to bed. I know staying in bed is dangerous. It is what I have right now and it is safe.
Saturday, December 3, 2011
*****consider yourself warned: this is rather raw post. I know I've been in a massive negative spin for several weeks and the very few readers here are most definately sick of reading this shit. F*ck, I'm sick of living it. Regardless, ONE DAY I hope and pray I can look back and say "whoa...so glad things are so much better". For now, it isn't. And I'm just plain in a really bad space. So if you are in a not so good space - click the little X at the top right hand of your screen and go on to read something else.
I just want to sleep. You don't have to think when you sleep. You don't have to feel when you sleep. It's about the only time I'm able to be at turn off the constant up and down circle.
I would have to be able to sleep first. It's nearly 3am. I have to work at 6:00am. Damn it all.
There are times when things are better left unsaid.
And soo....I'm taking a break. I need to pick myself back up off the f*cking ground. After I'm done working this afternoon I am not sure what/where I will go. Home to bed until I am supposed to be back at work on Tuesday. Who knows. I have no clue.
I'm tired of being told 'suck it up'. I'm tired of everything. I'm tried of being told there is no alternative. I'm tired of being told that!!!!!!! It doesn't make me feel any better. It doesn't make me feel any less alone.
Friday, December 2, 2011
The only expecation I need can give myself is the permission to just be.
And in the process.....
It is not very pretty.
It includes me not leaving my room.
It includes me working only to come home so completely spent that I can't give anything to my family.
It includes me not working.
I knew I was not ready to go back to work. I knew that I was barely hanging on by a thread and that thread was pretty damn thin. Even though I was doing better...I wasn't doing better.
I know my husband really wanted and felt that I needed to go back to work.
I know that financially we need me to work.
I know that my therapist feels that it is more productive and healthy for me to work.
I know that my psychiatrist agrees with my therapist.
I knew that I was not reaady to return to work.
And here I am.....having worked 5 full days...and working a 1/2 shift yesterday bc my anxiety was so incredible bad. And then today....anxiety and depression mixed together has made for one hell of a mess. And in the process I will end up getting reprimanded at work bc I had myself in such a f*cking tizzy that I didn't call in sick w/in the time frame. I actually, ATTEMPTED to go to work...only didn't get there. Then when I called they told me to come anyway...and well I couldn't so I ended up calling in sick after getting charged w/a late-out. FUCKING SUCKS!! I've never gotten a late-out and I'm stressing in a way that isn't even cool. And all I can think about today is thinking about ending this battle.
And sooo.....SOMEDAYS...when things are bad this is what I end up doing to 'tune' out the rest of the world...
It sometimes includes me editing photographs.
It sometimes includes me listening to Y.outube videos. The same one...over and over and over....such as this one:
and dying my hair...REALLY REALLY RED!!
Thursday, December 1, 2011
It was mighty cold last year when we visited Temple Square on the evening of the lighting ceremony. We were tired. I was rather sore (injured my shoulder a few weeks prior at work) and grumpy.
I had a massage that I had looked forward to for several days. Several different times I told H* to stop. I felt like I couldn't breathe and it continued. She was very sensitive to my needs and met me where I was at.
As I ate lunch with my dh and son...it continued. My husband put his hand on my leg and said on several occassions....wht is wrong you your upset/nervous about something. I told him I woke up with an overwhelmingly bad case of anxiety and it had continued to get worse.
My son and I came up with a plan to come home, crawl in my bed and play computer games. Continued to be overwhelmed. It took every ounce of my energy to stay present for my son.
He went off playing and I fell asleep. Waking up every 15-20 minutes with the thought I couldn't breathe and sweating.
I got out of bed bc my dh and son continued to argue over ds homework. Stop f@cking fighting with him and being mean verbally....put the shit away and make it be HIS problem. And give him a break...he is sick!!!!!!
We argued and I retreated back to my room. Light out.
I'm alone and the one person I wish would here me and care isn't able to. Because hes stuck in his own place. Whatever that may be.
J* asked me during my therapy appt this week if I thought he was struggling with having me be so down and out? And how hard it must be for him to deal with 'me'.
I get that. And I hear her.
What I think about that today is...fuck that!!
I'm smothering, drowning AGAIN, and this time the pressure is even bigger. There is much more to loose!
Somehow, it is my problem.
Somehow, working was supposed to help me.
Somehow, my pdoc thinks therapy should help and working it out w/J* is the answer.
Somehow, J* thinks shes not helping bc wtf...here we go again
and since I have more charts than Obama has assistants things must not be working.
Somehow, this shit has gotta end. I CANT TAKE MUCH MORE!
And to J*...i say yes..today I'm broken! I'm defeated! I'm sick and tired of trying. I feel like I'm smothering.