My kid has been super fussy and argumentative and defiant today. The moment my mood crashed low, she amped it up considerably. She has a gift for doing that.
Now after the 500th tantrum, her voice has become like nails on a chalkboard.
She’s being wretched but I know it’s mostly me. I am nervous and irritable and I feel like the walls are closing in on me and I am smothering. It’s not logical but it is all encompassing. And it’s making me angry rather than adding to the depression.
Once again I had the dishonor of reading a shiny happy people post about about only YOU can control how YOU feel. WHAT THE FUCK? I want to feel normal. I don’t want any of this shit. And I am such a rabid control freak, it’s sure as hell not due to lack of willpower and effort to reel it all in. Nothing like trying to be normal and read someone’s post, which has nothing to do with you personally, and walk away feeling like the world’s biggest loser because you can’t manage something so simple. Taking control of your emotions is easy right?
Not when your brain sends all the wrong messages. All the therapy I’ve had has never managed to teach me to control the bad chemicals because, oh yeah, it’s not possible. Yet because it applies to the masses who don’t have dysfunctional brain chemicals, I end up putting pressure on myself to be what I’m not, bullying myself, and it just makes it all worse.
“You’re just making excuses.”
I hear that in my head. My dad, my mom, my so called friends. The supportive bunch that they are, brimming with empathy and a sympathetic ear.
I am circling the drain. Being reactive and emotional, no doubt. But the mind frame was ripe for it.
I am going through the motions. Appearing functional. Forcing smiles and laughs.
But my mind is a mine field of detonating thoughts and emotions and moods and it feels like living hell.
The nails on the chalkboard are starting up again. It’s too bad I quit drinking. It was always so helpful with the anxiety. Now…only sleep quells it.