I’m worried about me

(just as a forewarning: this may take a few posts or edits to complete as I am doing this in between classes)

I”m really starting to get worried about me. I feel as if all the joy has left my life. I rarely laugh any more. I might giggle…maybe…but I can’t remember the last time I really, truly laughed. I don’t feel alive. Anger, frustration and irritation are the only emotions I feel any more. This has been the case for a while but it’s getting worse. I feel like I’m dying inside. All I want to do is drink and sleep and drink some more. I’m not…yet…but I want to. My heart isn’t in my classes this semester and it’s already showing. I can NOT make myself buckle down and do my work. I blame it on not having any space alone or time alone, but even when I do have time or a place I find something else to do. Like surf the net. Or read another book instead of my school books. I’m depressed and I know it…and it’s worse than it’s been in a long time. I can’t remember when I last wanted to sit and drink…not to get drunk, but just to be more mellow. I want to run and hide and never come back out and it scares me.

MIL still hasn’t stopped smoking, shock of all shocks. Her claim that she wasn’t going to buy more smokes? A lie, as usual. I’m a sneaky bitch and counted the smokes in her pack yesterday, thinking that maybe she was just cutting back slowly and it was still the same pack she’d had and knowing the only way to find out was to count them. There were 12 in that pack yesterday. I counted this morning and there were 15. That means she smoked 17 yesterday…and that she’s buying more packs. I had the thought that I would write her a letter, letting her know how all this makes me feel. I should have done it last week when I was fully angry, but I didn’t. And now I’m having trouble making myself care. I know it won’t make a difference…why should I bother?

I’ll be starting back on my antidepressants once my mouth heals from my latest dentist appointment this afternoon. Last time I was swollen for 4 days and could barely eat pudding, let alone try to fit pills in my mouth. I don’t think they alone are going to do the trick, though. I know they can only fix so much. Chuckles and Giggles might be moving out soon – they are going to get a list of income-based housing from one of the girls that Giggles goes to school with. That will make things a little better still, as I will not have him constantly irritating me and will give me a place to hide again.

I feel apathetic, but know that I’m not truly because I still care that I don’t care. As if THAT makes much sense.

(ok, time for class. I’ll finish this later, if I can bring myself to care enough)

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5 Comments

  1. Talk to someone, Tig. Yes, antidepressants help, but talk therapy is the best therapy there is. Do you have someone? If not, does your school have a counseling system? (And shame on them if they don’t, after Virginia Tech.) And don’t beat yourself up for needing the help – sometimes we’re down too deep to pull ourselves up. I know – I’ve been there many times over my 38 years. Get some help, Tig. And keep writing so we can listen and be there for you. Okay?

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  2. Hugs Jen. I’ve been where you are (well, not exactly, but you know what I mean), and know how frustrating it is, but isn’t, and then is again. The only thing I can offer is my support, and this one teeny tiny lil piece of assvice… LOOK for the joy in small things. Enjoy flowers? Buy yourself some. Chocolate? Eat a little every day. Watching squirrels or birds outside? Set aside a few minutes a day to just watch them.You’ll come thru to the other side of this hon, I know you will.

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  3. ~hugs~. I am glad you’ll get back on your meds, that should help. Have they helped in the past?In regards to your MIL. That sucks. And it sucks that instead of just saying “no, i’m not quitting” she is lying about it. I understand that no matter how much pressure is put on someone, they can’t stopuntil they are ready, but be “man” enough to admit it. That wishywashyness drives me insane.

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  4. Squiggly, squishy hugs, chickie poo! You and I can form the “we’re just not happy, DAMMIT” chick club. At least you KNOW you’re not happy. I depend on Scott to be an ass and tell me I’m not. 🙂Sounds like you’re in a vicious cycle of back and forth with your MIL. Tell her that her doctor can prescribe Chantix to her for the smoking thing if she really wants to quit. It’ll help her do it without much fuss. That, or else DO demand she get her ass outside to light up. For crying out LOUD, Jen, I’d only smoke in the house if it was like around 0 degrees and that was in the basement, otherwise, I’d go out on the porch to do it!!! I’d always crack a window in the car… I tried to be considerate. Sounds like she’s not giving two craps. You want that I should come and slap her around? LOLOut of I don’t know how many people, maybe 10 total(?) that quit when I did this year, I’m the only one left that I know of that is still sticking with it. I’m still mad about it, but I know it’s for the best. I still want one, too, so I know I’m a real live addict for something (even though that seems so mild and silly compared to like crack or some such thing, ya know?).YOU hang in there. YOU are worth more than pain and numbness, princess. 🙂 Hugs!

    Reply
  5. Jess

     /  September 12, 2007

    I’m sorry. I agree with adienne that maybe talking to someone might help. And keeping writing is definitely good thing, too.Hang in there. This too shall pass.

    Reply

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