Wednesday, May 24, 2006
To say that depression sucks is like claiming that shit stinks. "Duh."
I long for the days when I thought "depression" was just plain feeling down on yourself or acting mopey. I wish it were true. Because I could snap myself out of that. I'm dragging through another low, and it's driving everyone around me crazy. My PMS-Med adjustment was an Official Failed Experiment, and now my head is all fucked up. Just a couple days ago I was feeling re-vitalized and motivated, but that was a mere fleeting moment. Now just the littlest thing sets me off--I'm near tears almost constantly. And even more irritating, just when I think I'm feeling normal, or at least not CRAZY, someone will do something that would elicit a NORMAL response of anger, irritation, or agitation, and Rusty is quick to point out that I'm not "normal" or I'm "stressed out", and it's my depression. No, I'm not crazy, I just tend to get really pissed off when I've asked 4 times for the kids to get ready for bed and then find them in my bedroom watching Spongebob. I know the difference between "Mad Mom" and "Crazy Mom". Usually when I begin to approach "Crazy Mom", I take steps to limit my exposure to them--send them to their room, give them dinner or whatnot and then go lock myself in the bathroom or go lie down for a while. But now I can't reprimand them without thinking the whole world is rating my performance for signs of Crazy.
And the physical symptoms are wearing thin, too. I just have absolutley no energy. I can fall over asleep anytime, anywhere. Except at 3am, of course. Getting through work is so much harder than you would expect. Aside from just plain being tired, keeping a smile on my face, staying motivated to talk to people, responding with restraint when someone's being a pain in the ass... these SOUND like little piddly things, but it's as much a struggle physically as it would be if I had a 40 lb. ball chained to my leg. I get home and I'm just exhausted. I've been biting my tongue and pushing through the malaise all day, and I come home and I want to SIT DOWN. But most of the time, what I have to do is put random stuff away, find and prepare dinner, squeeze in time to put more comfortable clothes on (a sad necessity now that I've gained enough weight that my 'skinny' clothes aren't fitting well anymore). And throughout the day, I'm also battling the ABSOLUTE CONSTANT NEED for sugar. Or junk food, in general. I ate half a batch of peanut butter cookies today--only half because I ate the other half last night. I was so stressed out and upset last night and I ate so much that my stomach hurt and I sat in the bathroom for 20 minutes hoping I could make myself vomit.
Money is at the center of all my worries. I don't want anyone thinking they can rescue me by sending me money, so I won't go into the boring details, but suffice it to say, there have been a lot of bills piling up, a lot of emergency or unexpected expenses, and fewer working hours. And seeing the negative balance on my bank account yesterday when I THOUGHT I had done everything right just about sent me over the edge. It was all a stupid timing error, and aparently there was an overdraft charge the bank had been waiting to hit me with, which of course made my last check bounce. Fanfuckingtastic.
And this is the bank I'm supposed to be going in to ask for a SBA loan for my coffee shop??
The whole thing makes me feel like a complete failure. I'm a failure as a mom because I can't provide for my kids without Rusty's help. I've scrimped and saved and spent every last penney I have trying to keep buying the things they usually eat so they don't notice how fucking POOR we are, and it'll be another week before I have any more money in the bank. By then I'm sure the bank will find more reasons to charge me so that they can eat into what little I'll be getting. But honestly, I get more in child support than some single moms make working full time, so what's my damned problem?? I admit to a few splurge spending incidents over the past month--mostly clothing for work--gotta have nice looking things to wear in this weather. I'm such a bargain hunter, I only spent freaking $17, but I'm consumed with guilt as if that cash could have put steaks and caviar on the table instead and I don't deserve those T-shirts and underwear.
I'm a failure as a spouse/partner because I can't support myself enough to let Rusty concentrate on his own finances, and we're putting an incredible strain on him. He's busting his ass doing college classes and working 3rd shift and the thanks he gets is a pile of bills and a sink full of dirty dishes. I admit he does most of the housework, but it's not because I won't do it, aparently it's because I won't do it BEFORE he will. Most of the time, I don't freaking want to do the damned dishes at 8pm, I want to sit the hell down for the first time all day. Sometimes I force myself to, but if I know I have the next day off, I will wait. But most of the time I find him doing them before I get to it. It's like that with most of the chores. I always figured if I cooked the meal, someone else should be cleaning the dishes... and speaking of which, since when are meal preparation and grocery shopping not considered housework? It can take me up to 2 hours to get shopping done, carried in and put away--what other household chore takes that long on a regular basis?? See, I'm venting now. I try not to do that with him because it just starts an argument and I know in this state, not only am I too irritated to get anything positive out of it, but most of my points will be dismissed out of hand because of "my condition". Oh Sassy, you're just being pre-menstrual.
At work, there are a couple of promotions available. I've been trying to get a word in edgewise with the managers to put myself in the running, but they seem to be avoiding me, and no one has spoken of it to me. Right, that's not looking good, either. And besides, do I really want to take on more responsibility, make them train me and all and then jump ship to start my own place? I mean after all, I'm sure I'll find some magical way to pull $10k out of my own ass to qualify for the SBA loan, and then all my big, exciting Fun Time Dreams will come true forever and ever.
OK, THAT was the depression talking. I'm just so fucking sick of feeling sick. And Tired. (Thanks, Mr. Cosby.) I just feel like the only way out of this hole is if someone magically rescues me, and I know that's never going to happen. I'm supposed to fix this myself. I just don't have the first clue how.
I long for the days when I thought "depression" was just plain feeling down on yourself or acting mopey. I wish it were true. Because I could snap myself out of that. I'm dragging through another low, and it's driving everyone around me crazy. My PMS-Med adjustment was an Official Failed Experiment, and now my head is all fucked up. Just a couple days ago I was feeling re-vitalized and motivated, but that was a mere fleeting moment. Now just the littlest thing sets me off--I'm near tears almost constantly. And even more irritating, just when I think I'm feeling normal, or at least not CRAZY, someone will do something that would elicit a NORMAL response of anger, irritation, or agitation, and Rusty is quick to point out that I'm not "normal" or I'm "stressed out", and it's my depression. No, I'm not crazy, I just tend to get really pissed off when I've asked 4 times for the kids to get ready for bed and then find them in my bedroom watching Spongebob. I know the difference between "Mad Mom" and "Crazy Mom". Usually when I begin to approach "Crazy Mom", I take steps to limit my exposure to them--send them to their room, give them dinner or whatnot and then go lock myself in the bathroom or go lie down for a while. But now I can't reprimand them without thinking the whole world is rating my performance for signs of Crazy.
And the physical symptoms are wearing thin, too. I just have absolutley no energy. I can fall over asleep anytime, anywhere. Except at 3am, of course. Getting through work is so much harder than you would expect. Aside from just plain being tired, keeping a smile on my face, staying motivated to talk to people, responding with restraint when someone's being a pain in the ass... these SOUND like little piddly things, but it's as much a struggle physically as it would be if I had a 40 lb. ball chained to my leg. I get home and I'm just exhausted. I've been biting my tongue and pushing through the malaise all day, and I come home and I want to SIT DOWN. But most of the time, what I have to do is put random stuff away, find and prepare dinner, squeeze in time to put more comfortable clothes on (a sad necessity now that I've gained enough weight that my 'skinny' clothes aren't fitting well anymore). And throughout the day, I'm also battling the ABSOLUTE CONSTANT NEED for sugar. Or junk food, in general. I ate half a batch of peanut butter cookies today--only half because I ate the other half last night. I was so stressed out and upset last night and I ate so much that my stomach hurt and I sat in the bathroom for 20 minutes hoping I could make myself vomit.
Money is at the center of all my worries. I don't want anyone thinking they can rescue me by sending me money, so I won't go into the boring details, but suffice it to say, there have been a lot of bills piling up, a lot of emergency or unexpected expenses, and fewer working hours. And seeing the negative balance on my bank account yesterday when I THOUGHT I had done everything right just about sent me over the edge. It was all a stupid timing error, and aparently there was an overdraft charge the bank had been waiting to hit me with, which of course made my last check bounce. Fanfuckingtastic.
And this is the bank I'm supposed to be going in to ask for a SBA loan for my coffee shop??
The whole thing makes me feel like a complete failure. I'm a failure as a mom because I can't provide for my kids without Rusty's help. I've scrimped and saved and spent every last penney I have trying to keep buying the things they usually eat so they don't notice how fucking POOR we are, and it'll be another week before I have any more money in the bank. By then I'm sure the bank will find more reasons to charge me so that they can eat into what little I'll be getting. But honestly, I get more in child support than some single moms make working full time, so what's my damned problem?? I admit to a few splurge spending incidents over the past month--mostly clothing for work--gotta have nice looking things to wear in this weather. I'm such a bargain hunter, I only spent freaking $17, but I'm consumed with guilt as if that cash could have put steaks and caviar on the table instead and I don't deserve those T-shirts and underwear.
I'm a failure as a spouse/partner because I can't support myself enough to let Rusty concentrate on his own finances, and we're putting an incredible strain on him. He's busting his ass doing college classes and working 3rd shift and the thanks he gets is a pile of bills and a sink full of dirty dishes. I admit he does most of the housework, but it's not because I won't do it, aparently it's because I won't do it BEFORE he will. Most of the time, I don't freaking want to do the damned dishes at 8pm, I want to sit the hell down for the first time all day. Sometimes I force myself to, but if I know I have the next day off, I will wait. But most of the time I find him doing them before I get to it. It's like that with most of the chores. I always figured if I cooked the meal, someone else should be cleaning the dishes... and speaking of which, since when are meal preparation and grocery shopping not considered housework? It can take me up to 2 hours to get shopping done, carried in and put away--what other household chore takes that long on a regular basis?? See, I'm venting now. I try not to do that with him because it just starts an argument and I know in this state, not only am I too irritated to get anything positive out of it, but most of my points will be dismissed out of hand because of "my condition". Oh Sassy, you're just being pre-menstrual.
At work, there are a couple of promotions available. I've been trying to get a word in edgewise with the managers to put myself in the running, but they seem to be avoiding me, and no one has spoken of it to me. Right, that's not looking good, either. And besides, do I really want to take on more responsibility, make them train me and all and then jump ship to start my own place? I mean after all, I'm sure I'll find some magical way to pull $10k out of my own ass to qualify for the SBA loan, and then all my big, exciting Fun Time Dreams will come true forever and ever.
OK, THAT was the depression talking. I'm just so fucking sick of feeling sick. And Tired. (Thanks, Mr. Cosby.) I just feel like the only way out of this hole is if someone magically rescues me, and I know that's never going to happen. I'm supposed to fix this myself. I just don't have the first clue how.
Comments:
Post a Comment
