Yesterday was not one of my finer days.
Dad and his brood took Spook for six hours to some redneck function…and rather than accomplishing all the things I put off because she is underfoot…I basically sat the whole day vegetating, enjoying my season premiers of my favorite tv shows. Then I began to feel anxious without her here and I had some whiskey.
Bad girl, yes I know.
Tis the only thing that kills that level of anxiety and paranoia.
It also made me sleepy.
So I laid down.
For all of forty five minutes til they returned Spook. And my dad was like, “Have you been SLEEPING?” Like I was sacrificing young children to Satan or something untoward. Yes, I had a bit of a nap, big fucking deal.
They stayed awhile to tell me how much fun she had.
Then I fed her and my mood hit rock bottom because damn it, I feel shitty that between being fucking broke all the time and being terrified of any event with large crowds, I don’t do anything fun with my kid. I play with her at home sure, but I can only stand to take her outside every once in a blue moon because truth be told, I fear the neighborhood we live in and the people here.
My damn neuroses are going to ruin her childhood.
I put Spook to bed, then fell face first into my own bed, took a Trazadone and Xanax cocktail, and waited…and waited. For sleep. My mind just kept going round and round. Thoughts of her father and his venom, and how he is so broke he acted like being asked to buy some diapers was a hardship yet he is spotted outside his job smoking cigarettes everyday so how poor can he be…And I got angry and more angry. Then I got depressed and the self loathing began, because ya know, whose fault is it, I am the one who got involved with him.
It was toward midnight when I finally fell to sleep, and by then, my mood was so dark, I might have done something crazy had I been awake much longer. My self esteem has been thru a criss cross cut shredder and I suck at puzzles so putting it back together seems impossible. Or am I failing to regulate my emotions? (I HATE THAT COUNSELOR, HATE HER HATE HER HATE HER, AND I KNOW SHE MEANS WELL SO I FEEL LIKE A BITCH FOR HATING HER BUT SHE IS DOING ME MORE HARM THAN GOOD!!!!
Saddest part is, I don’t have the balls to go ask for a different counselor. In all honesty, I am kind of scared of this woman, like if I did ask for someone different, she might actually refuse and claim I am just being a brat…Or worse, alter my records in some way detrimental to me.
Eh, who says paranoia makes sense anyway?
I just wish there was a way to take some of these doubting Thomases who don’t believe how bad depression can be and let them spend an evening in the mind frame I was in last night…Which scared the hell out of me, because I couldn’t come up with anything good about myself or a reason for me to keep drawing breath. And I believed it and I knew the only way out was to sleep it off…