I had a GREAT day yesterday. Not because I won the lottery but because my brain BEHAVED. At the end of the day, I still had energy to run a computer over to my nephew for him to try to fix, then went to R’s to watch the premiere of Flash.
And today…SPLAT. R wanted me at the shop. He’s called 8 times and sent a nasty text. I’m avoiding. He keeps telling me to talk to him instead of flaking out. Every time I try to talk to him about the depression and anxiety, he changes the subject or snarks about how I don’t work so I can’t be exhausted or says I am making excuses.
How am I supposed to deal with someone like that?
Because I just don’t have it in me today. I haven’t showered in 4 or 4 days or done my dishes. I came home this morning from taking my kid to school, took my meds and even a morning Xanax and…Fort blankie beckoned and I zonked, aside from the distant sound of all the damned calls which started at 8 a.m. even though idget knows I don’t venture out til ten and have told him so repeatedly. So I slept, and now I feel shitty about it.
I was so good yesterday.
I know the professionals would say I need to face my problem, re:R, but if he won’t listen or back off even on a social level and let me have some space to deal with my brain issues…
Avoidance. Guilt inducing but with this guy, it’s the only thing that works. He gets mad and throws back every nice thing he’s ever done for me, I try to defend myself and explain, he gets nastier…
I have to wonder why I had such a good mental day and then today I am in the shitter.
It just wipes me out. I tired of performing to the expectations of others. Tired of the happy mask and fake laughs and just…tired.
Avoid, avoid, avoid.
Until my mind state changes.
Which is unlikely because the doctor’s office rescheduled my appointment again for a week later than the one they set up. So three months without seeing my doctor. Excellent.
I’d say I’m pretty far down the rabbit hole when I can’t face my friends.Though their lack of understanding is part of why I can’t face them. It’d either be a blow up from me or a breakdown of tears at which point I’d be told to grow up, quit feeling sorry for myself, yada yada.
I…am at a loss.