Quiet Desperation

Another day without significant change in my mental status. I’ve been in a depressive fog for so long now, I’m actually getting scared. I’m going into week 3 of Viibryd and I know the stuff takes time but…I’m desperate. This depression is tainting every aspect of my existence, even the writing I so love. It has become pointless, dark, desolate, mimicking how I feel, thus it’s not fiction anymore. It’s not fun or fulfilling or interesting. It’s one more bucket of suck to make me feel even shittier.

I am told to “snap out of it.” Please, geniuses who spout this.DO FUCKING TELL. If snapping out were an option I sure as hell wouldn’t bother with all the side effect infested pills.

Something’s got to give, and for me, it’s usually the coming of spring. This has been the longest,coldest winter I remember, ever. It seems like it will never end and thus every day I am treading water because until this part of my disorder ends, nothing else can really be done. I’d settle if the med would just take the edge off, but so far, it’s not. Everything is black and pointless as ever and my feelings toward everything, including myself, are the same. I hate me. I hate everything.

The financial strain is hitting me hard for the first time since I don’t remember when. It’s not new and yet, I am coping with it like it is something different when it’s not. My mind is so altered, I barely recognize me anymore. Paranoid, anxiety ridden (when it’s so bad I take the fully prescribed dose rather than trying to tough it out…it says something.)

The last few days my kid keeps telling me she wants to go live with her dad. I mean, she’s 4 and she also wants me to buy her a tree chipper and let her sleep in a coffin but…It’s still devouring my soul, a soul that’s so sad to begin with it feels like a mortal blow. I’ve done all the work. He walked out and hasn’t sent so much as a birthday card in almost 3 years. But she wants him. Yeah, not motivating me to keep doing this. Being a mom and her needing me has been my biggest driving force. To have this shit driven into my head daily, when my head is so screwed up already…It would make me bawl except Lithium doesn’t allow me to cry.

And I know I am the adult, grow up, blah blah blah, but ya know what? I don’t care. It hurts. It fucking hurts. And I am well aware that I have years of hurt ahead of me ‘cos it’s what kids do and I did it to my parents and this is karma and.,..

It still just hurts. For once in my life, I did the right thing. I made a choice to have a kid and I have been with her, caring for her, every single day for 4 and a half years.

He walks out on and fails to support THREE kids, the courts never go after him, and of course, he gets to be the hero even with this kid.

I don’t think even Mother Theresa could delude herself into saying that’s not a thorn in the paw.

I keep telling myself it;s just my ego but it’s really not. NO ONE knows how hard it’s been for me since having her altered my brain chemistry to the point of turning  “a little crazy” into “batshit crazy.” I tried to talk to my family about it but got the lecture about how I have to stop thinking about me and it’s about my kid…So what’s the fucking point. I reached out for support and help and that’s what I got. So I have done it alone for my kid…And wanting a little bit of acknowledgement isn’t a sin. Maybe it’s immature or demanding but it’;s not a sin. Parenting is tough enough. Doing it alone, with a mental illness wreaking havoc daily, is a fucking feat.

Rant done.

I had to work myself up into an anger cos the desire for tears was overwhelming. I can work with anger. It’s fuel for my soul. Being sad will only make me look like a welcome mat. Being pissed off will at least demonstrate I have some fight left in me.

My delusion, I guess.

I just want to feel happy, even if only for a couple of hours. This quiet desperation sucks.

One Response to “Quiet Desperation”

  1. This is the place you can rant. Pat yourself on the back for doing a good job of expressing the shitty thoughts and feeling. I know what it’s like. I’ve been there. It can be hell. Why aren’t the courts going after the deadbeat Dad?

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