Struggling to Find Me and Not Succeeding

It’s been a bad day.  Can I say it again?  It’s been a bad day.

It’s been bad enough that J came home and tended to me for a little while, then he made arrangements for the boys to stay at daycare for the couple of hours they would have otherwise been home with me.

Yesterday was bad, but not like this.  Yesterday’s bad was the hazy “I want to sleep all the time” bad.  Today has been more the “I want to go to sleep and never wake up” kind of bad.  That’s the honest truth of it.  For those of you who worry, I’m okay and I’m have therapy in an hour.

I’m job-hunting with a company who helps disabled folks find employment.  Hmm.  In theory, this sounded like a great thing.  Today, not so much.  But let me remind myself to make this post about me, not a rant about other people.

I’m not sure now is the time for me to be job-hunting.  I think my counselor at the Local Friendly Mental Ward was right; I really do need to be stable for a year before I look for a job.  And my goodness, my meds were all turned around last week again and I’m still trying to adjust to them.

Somewhere, deep down, I’m in here.  I promise I really am.  Somewhere down below the tears and the fear of rejection and the flighty madness, I’m here struggling to get out and get some semblance of normal.

It’s days like this that I miss my Tinker-B, my baby.  Stella’s great but Tinker was, well…look at that face above.  She helped me hold my world together in those couple of years that it was upside down, when I was in that land so foreign to me with my new husband.

Now, I know it’s bad.  I’m going off on Tinkerbell.  Time to get to therapy.





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