Eh, I saw a list of banned bands last week for some religious based radio station and the band name Smother Theresa was on there. It made me laugh like the blasphemous heathen that I am.
But if fits, because it is 3:17 am and I just woke up and my mind is churning with stressed out angry thoughts to the point I feel like I am smothering. On my own anxiety, my frustration, my anger.
The pressure put on me by R expecting me to be at the shop five days a week is crushing me. I have tried to tell him and he just won’t hear me. His self absorption is pissing me off. The way he manipulates me into feeling guilty for feeling the way I do pisses me off further. The entire week I had that bad reaction to Topamax and could have ended up blind and hospitalized…and I tried to talk to him about how bad I was feeling and that I needed to be home waiting for the toxicity to end…It went over his head, he said he needed me there. Then I spent the entire days occasionally answering a phone or running to get his lunch or beer. Nothing else was needed of me.
It’s shit like that that leads to me waking up in a panic like this. I do not walk the tightrope well. If I keep burning the candle at both ends this way, I am going to wind up in the looney bin.
I just don’t know what to do, I have been clear as day, he won’t listen. I don’t want to burn any bridges. I like the guy,he’s been good to me and my kid and I don’t mind helping out when there’s stuff to do. But this shit where I am his security blanket so he doesn’t have to be alone…It’s asinine and I can’t believe he doesn’t see how asinine it makes him.
I keep trying to discern if this is all because of the med changes and mental stuff.
I’ve been feeling this way for weeks now.
This is how I feel. And that I tell him and he blows me off makes it all the much worse.
It’s headed to a bridge burning that I really don’t want to do.
Ignoring me is not a good idea. I usually play nice…Until I don’t. When I play not nice, it tends to be an ugly affair. It’s how I lost most of the jobs I’ve had, is trying to tell people when I am getting crushed under the stress and being told to suck it up. I don’t have that ability. I don’t have a brain that sends or accepts the correct messages.
He expects me there by 8:30.
His expectation crushes me.
My kid is out of control and wields the “I want grandma” knife when I say the word no. Before her father left, before I started being gone all the time and my mom began ruining my kid, we had a bad day here and there but she was pretty well behaved. Now there are times I feel like I am being held at toddler point, she’s an emotional terrorist. It’s not merely a kid being a kid. This is my mother’s influence.
All so a 50 year old man doesn’t have to be by himself, to the point he’s willing to buy my lunch and smokes every single day. Meanwhile, I’m going into meltdown mode.
I broke down and took a Xanax earlier. The klonopin has the same effect of popping tic tacs, for fuck sake. And of course, I keep wondering if it’s just me, if’s some sort of psychological thing. Because I have been so trained to doubt myself, to question myself, to defer to everyone’s judgement of everything being all in my head.
I just want to be the mom I used to be, when my kid would listen to me and I didn’t feel like I was smothering everyday. I am not ready for this 30-40 hour thing yet, not with the meds in flux and my head so screwed up. That people expect me to be pisses me off further. I am not being allowed to mend at my own pace and it’s starting to crush me.
My head is hurting.
The clock is ticking.
My heart is pounding.
My blood is boiling with the indignant anger of being completely and utterly ignored by someone who claims to be a friend and care about my well being.