Why oh why does it never work!!!!

I did EVERYTHING right today as far as the professional suggestions to combat mood swings and depressive bouts. Lots of sunlight. I opened the door to let it in, I sat outside to soak it up. I moved and got active. I avoided soda. I took my meds at properly spaced intervals. I interacted with my kid. The Avon lady stopped by so I interacted with her as well. I inhaled the heroin of week old newbie kittens…I watched a show I really find interesting.
I did every fucking thing.

And still come 5 pm…I started sliding down the rabbit hole mood wise. My anxiety went off the charts. It’s like nothing I do makes any difference. I am just damaged in a way that cannot be repaired and there’s no empathy to be seen so why am I even bothering?

It’s becoming apparent I am a shit mother. God knows everyone critiques me for being too lenient, being too harsh.
The avon lady said she’d take Spook for a playdate with her little boy BUT “You’re gonna have to listen to me better than you do your mother.”
Bloody hell, wtf am I supposed to do?
They say make your kid respect you. NO wait, kids are supposed to fear you. On second thought, they are to be coddled and treated like fine china and given everything they want so they feel safe.

I read this (obnoxious) article the other day from this woman railing on stay at home moms who call parenting a “tough job.” She says we are ungrateful because being a stay at home parent is a privilege.
First, I wanna know what this bitch is smoking.
Second, I am fairly certain 98% of parents, male, female, single, divorced, whatever- know that parenting IS a tough job. You go through doing your best even when on a daily basis it becomes obvious your best isn’t good enough.
I am frustrated.
Mostly, I think I am just tired of the constant critiquing. The constant scrutiny. OMG, she lets her daughter sing the words to “This is the way you get to hell” and doesn’t even censor it???
Bad Mommy.
Fuck you.

Perhaps more than any medication I need a goddamn relocation program. Get me away from toxic small town environment where I have NEVER for one day fit in or belonged anywhere and it sure as fuck isn’t for lack of trying.
Of course, I’ve tried that several times and while change of locale does help to a small extent…The problem is always in my wonky brain and how it perceives things given whatever mood cycle it is in.
I could win the lottery and still be bawling and depressed.
I could find out I have ebola and if manic I’d laugh it off, joke about the color of my bloody eyeballs, and swear I could kick its ass.
This is not behavioral.
Kind of like the parenting thing. On a good day, it irks me but doesn’t knock me down a dozen pegs.
But today, after a week of criticism…I’m feeling pretty fucking shit and pretty fucking hostile.

And much as I love her…My kid doesn’t help. She just blows me off like I never even spoke. I gave her the easter present I bought her early because she asked for it no fewer than ten times when the avon lady was here…So I thought, it will do my heart good to see her happy. And oh, she loved the Frozen projector watch.
For about an hour.
Then she began making demands on what I am to buy her next and she wants this and I am mean and…
Parenting is not merely a job.
It is a HARD,EXHAUSTING THANKLESS job. Yes, I am gifted with a child whereas others are not. I am not without gratitude.
But any moron who says parenting isn’t a job needs to fuck off.
It’s a job we chose, perhaps but like a career choice, choosing doesn’t make the waters any smoother or easier to navigate.

Why does it even bother me?

Oh, right. In addition to the mood crash, with the warm weather has come an influx of people out and about, noise, screaming, more traffic…And combined with the cacophony my own kid provides…it makes me central nervous system feel raw and bloodied.
I do paint lovely pictures.

I just don’t understand why the “tried and true” methods don’t work for me if they work for everyone else.
Am I that much a mental illness mutation?

Processing it all is so much easier when the mind space is stabler.
Without that stability, it all comes crashing down.
I even thought earlier, maybe it’s time to wave the white flag and admit, I am exhausted, clueless, and drowning here.
But I’ve done the hospital thing and aside from a nice break from doing anything for yourself…It was pointless.

So where does that leave me?

It leaves me at 8:17 on a Saturday night feeling trampled on, inept, hopeless and like killing myself would be a public service.
Of course, that tiny bit of rebel is in there screaming and yelling so I won’t ever listen to the self destruction shit.
The fact that is has the power to make me even waver enough to open that door and have that thought…
is unsettling.
Time to assume the fetal position and allow sleep to take me away, much as Calgon always promised to do with their bath salts back when I was a kid…
I just really dated myself age wise, that was ancient.

I’m not old compared to a tree.
Grasping is straws is a valiant quest.
Bite me.


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