Tuesday I did my groveling/earning of gas money by running a few errands for R. I felt pretty secure in doing so since his wife is home for holiday break. Little did I know she was out of town and he invited himself over. Ha. NO NO NO. Not during the curse. I cannot deal with people, especially men, when my hormones are running riot and telling me I am angry or terminally sad at random moments.

Sure enough, it all went south. He brought something with him he was fixing, handed me this little piece, and told me to find it on line under some random search term. When I failed…He whipped out, “You are off your game these days. Once you would have found that piece in five minutes without all these excuses…”


I damn well know I am off my game. I know I am circling the goddamn drain. Cue the waterworks and sobbing. HUMILIATION complete. He tried to be comforting. Even said he would come to my next shrink appt with me to tell the doctor just how not well I am doing.

That was wonderful. Until I realized it hinged on me coming in the next day to do his bidding. Lovely. You agree I am falling apart but instead of stepping back and giving me some space, you make me jump through more hoops, thus increasing my stress.

Needless to say…I failed in an epic way yesterday. I had cramps so bad, was teary, I took a Xanax cos I was panicking for no reason other than meeting demands I have no resources for. I fell asleep. Then came his WTF text. Then a call. And I said I was trying to hobble that way, and I was, I even put on real pants. But the cramps just got worse even with pain killer and I was shivering so I got into Fort blankie, put the phone on vibrate, and literally could not move. I was awake two hours before I even managed to smoke a cigarette.Four hours before I even opened the laptop and checked email.

Now if I struggle that much even with my own normal activities and loves…How can I be expected to meet everyone else’s demands?

And why can’t he get it thru his thick skull?

I felt awful, of course. Epic fail of a human being. But Spook and I were in bed before 8:30 because I was just tapped out and in pain and…

This morning, she bounded out of bed without the usual “i’m tired” tirade of screaming. Parties for Xmas at school today. She was excited. I managed to drag my ass out of bed and get her there for breakfast at 7:35, only to realize…she’d failed to brush her hair. FFS. Oh, well, I am  a shit mom. I can’t say more than I told her to brush it and she did not do it. Least she was wearing her glasses and her shoes were on the right feet?

I gifted myself with a pack of smokes since the child support deposit came in. I am in pain still, and the cramps have moved to my spine, so all these plans I had for Xmas shopping may as well be same as facing a firing squad. I have no holiday spirit. None.

I did feel enough guilt about blowing off R yesterday to send him an apology text asking for time to get myself sorted. No reply, but considering I ignored five calls and a text from him yesterday…He has the right to be pissed and shut me out.

It’s got to be bad when you’re so ill physically and mentally that you’d risk an important friendship.

It hurts more to fail a friend than all the times I called in sick to legit jobs even tho I knew I’d be fired.

I HATE this shit. Every month even when doing well this menstrual dysphoria and pain kicks my ass, making me unreliable and unlikeable.

The seasonal depression…Ugh.

So here I sit, knowing all I need to accomplish and with zero will to do so. Feeling guilty for being such a wuss, knowing full well I am anything but a wuss yet the world, including my own family and friends, view me as not trying hard enough to beat this depression.

Sorry, folks. I am not a machine..I am coping best I can.

Bipolar depression. The gift that keeps on taking.

I wish someone would take it from me.I could live happily ever after without it.


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