Tag Archives: anxiety

Now What?

I’ve been given an option. As with most times my grandmother and uncle drop my girls off, they wanted to come inside and talk for a while. As they asked about what the fate for my car was and if I was still working at job, the conversation took a turn. My uncle began to tell me, as he does with most things he brings up to me, “Don’t take this as me lecturing you or trying to break up your relationship,” and I knew what he was going to say before he finished his statement. 

As I predicted, he offered for the girls and I to temporarily move in to his house. This way I can be there to be a mother to my children during the week and make sure they get to school while looking for a job closer to the school and my uncle’s as he would be able to give me rides whenever he’s in town. His hospitality usually comes at a price, and I am worried about what my price will be this time. Maybe it’ll just be the empty spot next to me in bed each night. I know Babe can’t come with us. No car means no way for him to get back and forth to work, which is less than five minutes from our house here. 

If I look at it logically, this is the best option right now. There is no money to be made in this small town and with all the businesses popping up around my uncle’s house, I’m sure I’d be hired quickly. Maybe with a little distance from Babe, we can learn to save some money. Impulsive buys are one of our worst problems. We wouldn’t be lightyears away, just about 20 minutes. I need to get back to work, I’m sure he’d understand that. Other factors (that will be saved for their own post when I’m ready to share) are about to cause him to go away for a few months. I’d be stuck in this house with no money either way once that happens. 

If I look at it emotionally, this is a shit situation. I love him. I have spent almost fours years with him. I’m not quite sure I know how to sleep alone anymore. All my late night thoughts and worries are going to double up on me and I know it. It doesn’t help that I know an argument will occur when I bring all of this up. Even though I am able to look at it from several angles, he will only take one thing from this: We are going to be away from him. I’d like to take this as an opportunity to make a better life for us. We are stuck in an endless cycle right now it seems and I want to break it. I know better than to hope for him to accept this with an open mind. 

So do I make the choice based on logic or emotion? Do I try to take some steps to move forward in life or do I stay stuck and not upset my love? 

But then again, wouldn’t someone who really loves me understand that sacrifices sometimes have to be made?  Either way, I’m past being nervous. I’m full blown anxious to have this conversation with him. I guess I could tell him what I keep telling myself: It’s only temporary. 


Annoyed With Myself

It has probably been about four years since I actually accepted I was mentally ill. I was diagnosed depressed when I was twelve, close to a year and a half after my mother commited suicide. Of course at that age I wasn’t going to believe some doctor telling me I was sick in my head. As far as I was concerned, I was just going through life’s worst case of puberty. Whatever was wrong in my head would work itself out. After all, my brain wasn’t finished developing yet. I threw the Prozac I started getting a prescription for at sixteen in the trash. I didn’t need it. 

Flash forward and I’ve admitted and accepted that I am one of many with mental health issues. I am still learning about how to cope with my depression and anxiety but still can’t find a good enough answer to “What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing” is always the easiest answer. It’s better than struggling to find a way to tell you, hell even to show you, what’s going on. But I really have a list of answers for you: 

I’m so tired. No seriously, I’m exhausted. All day I’ve been chasing my thoughts around my head. I’ve been trying to bring the optimism to the front but I’ve been trampled on over and over by pessimism. What you’ve been looking at as a temporary issue, I’ve been looking at as an endless possibility of ways to make life exponentially more terrible. All while telling myself what everyone else is telling me: “This is only temporary.” Only I can’t  believe myself, or you, or our neighbor and our best friend. There will always be something else coming up. Living in your head is more tiring than living in the outside world. 

I’m so heavy. I know, I know. I’m not fat. You’re only taking what I say at face value. I am carrying more than just the pudge that was left after having my two girls. I’ve got the weight of my previous choices, my car that now really isn’t my car anymore, getting my girls to school on time (or at all), making sure my boyfriend gets enough attention from me so he doesn’t think I’m uninterested or unappreciative of all he does for us, doing something around the house so nobody looks at me like a lazy fuck who does nothing but close herself up in her room. I’ve got people to make happy on all corners. 

I’m too fucking forgetful. Did I take my meds today? Did I take them yesterday? Have I had a shower today? Did I put deodorant on? Where the hell did I put my phone? Did I ever call my grandma like I said I would? Did I eat today? Why the fuck can’t I remember to do these normal ass tasks? 

I’m so sorry. I am in a continous state of apology. I have done terrible things and I don’t deserve love, yet it is still given to me. I just want you to know I am sorry for what I’ve done and what I might do. For what I said without thinking, for what I impulsively did to try and get your attention, for the sharp tongue I have when I’m angry. All of these things I am learning to control, but I can’t tell you when I’ll have it mastered. For that, I am sorry. 

I wish my motivation came as easy as yours. I see the trash can overflowing. I know I should  change the bag, but that would require energy that i just don’t have. Sure, a clean room would be awesome. I can’t get my ass out of this bed. I want to. I hope some day I am as motivated as you. 

I am forever trying to improve myself. I just can’t explain what is on the inside to those who live on the outside. 

Procrastination At Its Finest

20161127_165002It’s amazing how even the most random things can inspire you. This is a drawing of a “map” that my youngest daughter just finished. Normally, maps lead you to something right? I can’t tell where this one begins and where I need to go to find my treasure. I left my imagination back in my childhood, so her trails are obviously just scribbles to me. I do see a something though; I see more of a blueprint for what’s currently going on inside my head.

As my post suggests, I am procrastinating from doing something. I’m sure you’re dying to know what. I’d love to tell you, but I’m just not able to pinpoint one certain thing I should be doing. So, for the sake of not leaving anything out, let’s just say I’m actively avoiding my day-to-day life. If you look back a couple of posts, you can read just a snippet of the darkness that likes to show up on my shoulders at any given moment. Being at war with your own mind has got to be one of the most exhausting trials one can encounter.

Yesterday, I pulled my Happy Planner out of the cardboard box I had been keeping it in. (I highly suggest one if you’re interested in keeping better track of your day! I love mine, even if I sometimes forget to use it.) The box, while not really that important, is probably something that should be thrown away just because of the negative feeling I get when handling it. It was the box that the company I was working for used to pack up and mail all the stuff I had left in my desk before I never showed up for one of the four hour shifts they had decided to leave me with during the week. I kept it, as it was big enough for my planner as well as my little heart-shaped basket that kept my washi tape and favorite pen. A prime example of my depression messing with me without my noticing: I avoid going near the box now. It reminds me of a job I had and loved, a job I made the choice to leave. Something so meaningless has seemingly disabled me from going about my day normally.

Anyway, back to my planner. I filled out (in pretty great detail) all that I had planned to accomplish on this lovely Sunday. I was going to fold those clothes that had been sitting in multiple laundry baskets around Babe and I’s tiny room. I was going to pick up the room and even look for some bed sheets that would actually fit on our bed (somebody might have burned a hole in the sheets we already had) so we could stop sleeping on a bare mattress with a heavy comforter. I was going to have the girls tackle the livingroom along with their bedroom and their play room, all of which are absolutely covered in toys and blankets from their “forts”.

I went to bed fairly early (for me), a little past midnight. Babe and I slept through the alarm and he was almost late for work. I woke up at 11:30, which is an accomplishment considering I wouldn’t normally be greeting the day until at least an hour later. (Another reason not having a job is killing me? I find no urgency to get out of bed.) I sat up and attempted to rub out the sleep from the corners of my eyes, determined to get started on my to-do list I had so eagerly prepared the night before. I knew that sleeping in meant he took himself to work and I was going to be without a car for the day. If I wanted anything from the store, I would have to hope that his dad was already planning on getting out of the house and I could ask him to get it for me. His little truck is a stick shift. My cousin, who taught me how to drive, skipped over teaching me how to drive a standard. Something tells me he was already paralyzed with fear to have to teach me an automatic.

I have what can only be described as an extreme caffeine addiction. Hell, it’s 6 pm and I’m sipping on a Monster as I write this. It can get a little out of hand at times but considering all the nasty stuff I could have chosen to be addicted to, I say I’m still coming out on top. So when I crawled out of bed and to the kitchen, you can only imagine my absolute disappointment to find less than half a cup of coffee left in the still on coffee maker. I poured the remainder of the coffee and got everything ready to brew a new pot. Water was in, filter was in. I opened the Folgers can (gross) to find NOTHING. My disappointment turned to a dull rage as I rushed back to my room. Okay no coffee, at least I can have a cigarette. Again I was wrong. Babe had taken the last of our Newports to work with him. I couldn’t be mad though, he did have to work a double today. I rolled my eyes knowing that him being at work meant I was going to have to ask his dad to pick me up a pack and tell him he would get paid back when Babe got home. He agreed. He left for the store when I had a brain fart and thought “Hey I can get some money out of my change jar and go to the gas station for a Monster,” forgetting I was without a car. By the time I got ahold of his dad on the phone to ask him to get me one, he was already pulling in to the driveway. Still no caffeine, but at least I had nicotine.

After my first cigarette of the day, I decided to get started on the laundry. About halfway through the first basket of laundry, all the clothes started smelling as if they had already been worn. Mixed baskets piss me off more than I can explain to you. I hung up what was clean and took the rest of the dirty clothes to the laundry room. Pouring the remainder of the baskets in the washing machine, I came to the realization that we were out of laundry detergent! So already, I had to put off the laundry part of my to-do list. I took to cleaning up the room. I made an improvement and ruined it as I tore through the room trying to find some sheets. After about 20 minutes, I gave up. Another task to that I had no choice but to put off.

I raised my white flag. The darkness laughed triumphantly as I turned on my Xbox to drown myself in mindlessly killing fake enemies. I haven’t had a new game in months, so I just keep playing the same games over and over again hoping for a new outcome. I didn’t care as long as I didn’t have to think about all the stuff I wasn’t able to get accomplished today.

I made myself a “weekly goals” portion at the beginning of each week in my planner. One of my goals has been to write once a day. Something I love to do is made in to a chore just by making it a goal of my week. So when SG brought me her map, I knew I had to stop trying to escape my mind and embrace it. My daughter drew my jumbled mind by accident but she helped me more than she knows.

Just blurting out all my disappointments of the day has helped clear my mind. Just writing this post has made me realize that 1. I need to get rid of the box I keep my planner in! I’m not getting anything down in it because my subconscious is telling me to stay away from that stupid box. 2. I am capable of waking up before noon, I just need to force myself up! Continuing to let the darkness lay on top of me is NOT comfortable, so I need to get my ass up and moving. 3. Procrastinating does nothing but upset me more. I can’t fight a battle while I’m on my back not doing a damn thing.

Thanks for listening. And if you didn’t, I’ll just thank myself for being open and honest to the only audience that matters right now: Me.


Depression is a hassle. I thought I had taken control of my illness, but over the past year I’ve felt it dancing around me, laughing as it pushes me down. I’ve practiced breathing to control my outbursts and mental breakdowns. I’ve tried to make life a little less messy and more put together by purchasing a “Life Planner” and while I’m enjoying the creative aspect of said planner, I can’t manage to make a plan every day. Even on the good days where I fill out my schedule with great detail, I feel as if I’m pointlessly planning. It’s embarrassing to make a to-do list just to have most items on the list put off for another day.

I lost my job a few weeks ago. To be fair, it was my fault that I lost it. I stopped showing up after my full time hours were cut by over half. My paycheck didn’t even cover the amount of gas my poor car was guzzling to make it back and forth to the office every day. My boyfriend kept telling me it wasn’t worth it and I should just quit. My orange monster of a car was starting to overheat every day and even died on me while I was on my way home a few times, causing me to need a rescue ride. I really didn’t want to leave this job. It was the most enjoyable job I had had in quite a while. My first legitimately set schedule meant I never had to worry about what shift I would be working on this week and whether or not I would be able to make it to the girls’ class parties this year. After I made the decision that this job wasn’t worth it anymore, my depression decided to take even more control. I think I was unemployed for two weeks before I decided to start looking for another job. I just kept reminding myself how tough it’s going to be to find a good job like this one.

I can’t get myself to sleep until after 1 in the morning. I set an alarm for 9 every morning and find myself hitting the snooze button until after 12 pm. Every night I tell myself “Okay, tomorrow is the day I get it together,” and the following day I find myself snoozing the day away until Babe finally makes me get up.
I look around at my cramped, messy room and cringe knowing full well I need to clean it up yet I am lacking the motivation to do so. To everyone around me I’m too lazy and no one understands why. The frustration is evident on Babe’s face when he comes home from a shift to an unmade bed and 3 baskets full of laundry that could be clean, could be dirty, could be both. Even though he won’t say anything to me, I know I should be doing a much better job around the house (especially while I don’t have a job).

My parenting is really lacking too. The girls are getting more screen time than they should be. With my car being more of an inconvenience than anything at the moment, I haven’t been able to take them to school every day. When I ask my two closest- in terms of distance- relatives to help me out with rides for me girls I always get one of two responses: “I am out of town for work” from one and “You know I don’t drive outside of my city” from the other. Yet, at the end of the week, when it has been discovered that I only got the girls to school for two out of the five weekdays, I am hit with reminders of how important their education is and how I should be taking this seriously. Between not having a job and not having a reliable car, I’m about to go crazy with these girls.

Living with my boyfriend’s parents is getting to me as well. Some part of me feels as if our relationship won’t be able to flourish as long as we continue to rely on the help of them. No bills means no reason to budget our money. Get paid one day, spend all the cash by the next. Most people take opportunities like these to save money for a place of their own. We talk about it but I never see any action taken. I am in no way solely putting this blame on him either; I am just as guilty. I guess I am really over this rut we seem to be in and I hope he is too.

I guess I just needed to get some stuff of my chest. I created this blog as an outlet and I haven’t been using it as one. I guess that’s mainly because the only computer we have is in the livingroom and privacy is something of a myth in this house.

I am ready to push this depression out from on top of me. I just wish I knew where to begin.