Just the pits, man.

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Today marks two weeks until Mike flies in. I should be happy, excited and dancing around with the giggles.

But I am not.

Today has been filled with depressive thoughts with a suicidal filter like a bad instagram selfie.

I feel locked away in my house. Even if I didn’t have crippling agoraphobia, I have to plan weeks in advance to be able to use a car and leave.

For the past few days I have been trying to lightly ask about using the truck the Friday before Mike flies in so I can go get my hair done. I have had money set aside since November so the next time I saw Mike, I would not have two to four inches of roots showing.

Since my mother’s plan to buy my father a crappy car fell through she is in a bad mood.

We will just say, I am not getting the truck.

I spent four hours non-stop cleaning and cooking trying to have her in a good mood when she got home since Dad decided he wanted to save up more before going car shopping and I knew that would upset her.

My cleaning that was started hours before she got home was in her way of her putting down her garage sail finds and groceries.

Me offering her food made her upset and grouchy.

Asking if she wanted me to fill up her Pepsi cup sent her for a loop.

You cannot be nice to this woman, I swear.

It was expressed once again that they (my mother, really) are upset I am not seeking school, work or a doctor.

I can’t see a doctor because I do not have a car to go to the appointments, nor do I have the money for the appointments.  The majority of the last three months I have to without food and other necessities (I had to beg for tampons twice now) because I do not have the money to buy my own.

I cannot get a job because once again I do not have a car to actually get to and from nor do I have the imperative mental and emotional stability to be able to function in a work place since I cannot get to or pay for medical assitance.

I do not have a car because this family is entirely “you’re on your own”. Everything, from reading, washing your hair,  how to drive a car or cook your dinner because what they make, makes you sick – you have to teach yourself. Well.

I had to teach myself.

My brothers all had multiple cars given to them. College funds they chose to spend on not college. My mom and dad took turns teaching them how to drive and taking them out so they could practice.

I sound so whiny reading this over.

I am just hurt, I guess. I feel like the entire stack is against me and is going to fall over into a mess anyways.

Every day I have multiple panic attacks and thoughts of why bother? Absolutely and truly, why bother?

Why bother going to the doctor when they all say they can’t help me or that I don’t ‘seem’ sick simply because I am “articulate and sociable”.

Why bother looking for work when all it will do is compoud my illnesses and further my depression when I fail?

Something about me makes people dislike me. I ask everyone, ‘what am I doing wrong?’ I am polite, I always did my job well and apologized when I did not do well. I was always on time and offered to stay late and take shifts for those that needed to give them away.

And yet I always get pulled for discussions. When I would ask aboyt furthering my position in the company, ‘maybe not right now.’

Everywhere I go.

What the hell am I doing wrong?

After my family history and the issues at work I question everything I say and do.

If someone doesn’t respond to me, it breaks me down.

I curl up on my bed and cry.

Though to be honest even if I am talking to people I will probably still be curled on my bed crying between messages.

Now, I am fighting with every core of my being to not let Mike know what is going on in my head. I am terrified if he learns just how screwed up I still am, he will leave again. When he contacted me again, I was working and in therapy.

Now? I don’t leave my room. I don’t leave my bed.

The only people I talk to is my friend Michelle and Mike.

Today started with fighting not going right back to sleep. The rest of the day was fighting against the urge to take aspirin pm I have been holding onto.

I gave in about an hour ago.

My prayers are for sleep.

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2 thoughts on “Just the pits, man.

  1. Eve

    Can I just… nod really… the whole thing… just nod? Because YES. Apparently I can’t have mental health issues and be articulate or “really kind of upbeat actually.” I went through similar bullshit, so I feel you 100%

    Stay strong, fellow warrior!

    • Thanks. Honestly, I wish I had a way or advice to give on how to advocate how to get at least therapists or psychiatrists to understand but I don’t.

      And, YES, it is frustrating as hell.

      Thanks for the read and the conversation. I’m sorry I am so awkward. >.<

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