That’;s how I felt this morning when the alarm went off. I am now trapped by my kid’s schedule. I can’t handle being tied down to a set schedule myself, I go off the rails just trying. Now I have to take her to all these appointments for the kindergarten paperwork and my anxiety and tension are sky high. I can’t relax, can barely breathe, and no amount of blowing sunshine up my own skirt (aka positive thinking) does a bit of good.
She was on spring break for a week. I was looking forward to her going back ‘cos it’s mommy’s time out. But this morning, that alarm went off…and i hit snooze again. and again. and again. I even contemplated calling her in sick yet again because the motivation thing was not working. At the last minute I forced myself up, though by then it was too late for her to catch the bus so I had to take her.
I don’t know why I am struggling in the mornings. It’s been that way for months. And since starting Paxil, lethargy and grogginess are two of the un excellent side effects, which combined with other stuff, makes me think this isn’t the one for me. I am torn, though, because at some point this doctor is going to give up on me and determine nothing works for me. It’s so frustrating and also, frightening.
Spook had an appt with the doc to make sure her ear infection cleared up. I asked the doc if she was too young for counseling. I know I could use the help with her.She’s defiant only to me and I am at my breaking point. The kid has no grasp of how much I love her but I’m not her welcome mat and I am not her enabler. Letting my mom babysit her was such a mistake. I always knew it would be. Now I need helping cleaning up the mess.
Grrr, R is texting me again. I spent three hours of my time looking for a part for him over the weekend and he cost me a bunch of cell time with incessant texting, doesn’t this place have it, can’t you find it cheaper, blah blah blah. DO IT YOURSELF AND LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE. Now he wants me to stop by and order the damn thing for him. Because clicking a few keys and entering a credit card number are so bloody difficult. No doubt he will expect me to do out of the goodness of my own heart. Newsflash. I don’t have a heart, let alone any goodness.
People think I am being sarcastic. Mostly, I am not. My warm fuzzy emotions are crippled by lithium. All I feel these days is blinding anger. I don’t know why it doesn’t numb that. That I could do without. Though I do consider anger and outrage fuel for my soul. If I ever get to the point where things like child abuse and animal cruelty don’t warrant some anger…I’ll shoot myself. That is being heartless. I’m just…chemically stunted.
I am TRYING not to be overreactive and suspicious and paranoid. I am TRYING to be nice and open to friendship. I am TRYING to pretend I feel things I simply don’t because I am rather bored with being called “anti social.” I simply don’t have any tolerance for fake people and their asinine behaviors. That’s not anti social, that’s intelligent. Let me meet someone who’s company makes me feel more nourished than used and I’ll be a social butterfly. Until then…meh.
Spook has TWO appts tomorrow. Eye dr and counselor. I am nervous about the eye dr. She has one eye that has never tracked quite right and they have mentioned surgery might be needed at some point. That’s very anxiety inducing for me.
But then, what isn’t? Right, chainsaw wielding guys in chainsaw masks, spiders, snakes….I only fear the social norms.
On the plus side, whatever space I was in where I was too anxious to watch X Files, it’s gone and I am now watching it, normal as ever. The inconsistencies in my insanity would drive me insane but, oops, too late.
I need to focus and line up how to handle tomorrow. School, shop, eye doc, lunch, counselor, then I am coming home to regroup. It occurred to me that all this running about is what “normal” people live for, it’s their whole purpose in life. Yet for me…it’s living hell. It’s not keeping busy. It’s living on a damned clock. I can’t take my entire day being scheduled to the last waking moment. It’s soul sucking.
I’m starting to think “soul sucking” is just a synonym for “life”.
Except I see the two fat little kittens that survived and their eyes are open now and they make their ittty bitty meows…and I think…Maybe it’s not an exercise in futility, this life thing.