Really, really down lately. Being sick for so long isn't helping. Yesterday was a terrible one, filled with stress and anxiety. I hunkered down in my bedroom for as long as possible after Ryan came home from work, looked at facebook and saw all kinds of posts about what people did for dinner, and felt like a complete failure for not having cooked for my family.
I made an effort to stand up for myself yesterday, and as usual, it blew up in my face. I somehow look like the horrible bitch, and although I keep telling myself that I didn't do anything wrong, and in fact, I did everything right, it's not helping. The knowledge that someone is angry with me and is talking about me to everyone with an ear makes my heart ache. I know, I know that their words and thoughts and actions shouldn't hurt me, and that I shouldn't care about it, but no matter how many times I say to myself, "Don't care! It's not your problem!", I still do.
My kids have had two late nights in a row, and dealing with them during the day is hell. They are loud, obnoxious, antsy, disrespectful and rude.
It didn't help that Ryan came home really late yesterday, and as soon as he walked in the door, he started flipping out about all kinds of things.
A person's mind can only handle so much before stress begins to affect the body. When he got home, I acquired an instant migraine and horrible stomach ache. All I wanted to do was curl up in the dark and sleep, but I felt like a terrible mother and person for wanting that. I shut down. I was there in body, but not in any other way. Go through the motions, do what needs to be done, hope that bedtime comes very soon.
I woke this morning to yet another misunderstanding with one of my favorite people in the world. Somehow I didn't understand what was wanted and needed, and I let her down. I feel like a failure, again. I was hoping today would be new. Instead, it will be a continuation of yesterday. I need a hole to crawl into.
Yes, yes, yes. I am most certainly depressed. Exhausted in mind, body, spirit, heart.
There is always the question of "Will I make it through this time? Can I function and end up okay?"
Several people have suggested recently that I might consider going back on meds to "level me out"... With all my heart, I don't like the idea of it. Always, I say things like, "It's just a phase. I'll get through it. Everything gets done that needs to be done. Nobody else can tell that anything is wrong, because I'm great at controlling it."
A dear friend said to me recently, "But even if you are a PRO why live that way? Always holding it together with white knuckles and pure guts." That idea struck me viciously. I'd never really thought about it before. Why try so hard to appear "normal", when inside you're breaking apart, using every necessary vice to hold yourself together? Why not accept some kind of help from outside, something that would certainly work?
I have a lot to think about, and right now, I can't think clearly.
Duct tape, superglue, and string will hold me together for now. I hope.