I feel pulled in so many directions. And I don’t think I can please or satisfy any of the demands being made on me at the moment. My partner wants to come see me tomorrow – of course I want to see him, but with my world shaking under my feet, I feel my mind is not where I need it to be to see him. I asked for a few more days, but with his son, his schedule, he is adamant he wants to come down tomorrow. My brain cannot handle the static of all these people wanting things…
I have no idea what is happening with my parents. I think my sisters are ignoring me because I did the unthinkable and didn’t call on my father’s birthday. But with all the insanity there, how could I possibly imagine getting through a call where I had no idea what it would be like? Would I be his punching bag/sounding board? Would all his fury over the change in his lifestyle due to my mother’s illness come out at me? I am afraid. Yes, afraid. And the fear leads my mind to paranoia. I feel shunned by everyone I know. Except my partner and my the only friend who understands this disease in total.
The only light in this tunnel right now is my therapist tomorrow. I am hoping beyond hope she can help me get back on track. I am at work, trying not to cry. Again. This has been happening for a week – since I returned from seeing my parents and after I got the text my mother had been put in the hospital. No one in this fucking place cares, so I’ve bottled it all up and am just trying to make it through another day before I can go home and hide from the world. I don’t want to fall off this balance beam, but I was never good at gymnastics and all the judges are staring at me, waiting for my drop into depression. Perhaps I am already half way there, or more. I don’t even recognize myself anymore. Not my brain, which is spinning constantly. I wake up in the middle of the night, dreading the day ahead, dreading the minutes as they tick by and I lay in the dark wondering how the fuck I’m going to bounce out of this one again.
I am exhausted. In every way. I don’t care about food. I don’t care about me. I don’t care about this fucking job, or how to move forward in this profession. I don’t even want to be here anymore. And by anymore, that can mean where I live/work/or who I socialize with. Taken further, that can just mean taking all the medications I’ve horded for years and falling asleep forever. Yup, the hole is opening up underneath me and I am about ready to fall down it.
Perhaps what annoys me the most is that NO ONE seems to listen to a goddamn word that comes out of my mouth. That no one is thinking about anyone but themselves. What they want. Yes, my sisters have exhausted themselves dealing with my parents, and I don’t expect them to think about anything but survival right now. But everyone else in my world: my partner, my bosses, my co-workers and “social” friends are more interested in what they want then what is best for me. I feel absolutely drained by them all. They want to take, take, take – thinking that what they are doing is “supporting” me. But it sure as hell does not feel like that to me. Instead, I am the rope they use in the tug-of-war game, and my seams are fraying.
I know my partner wants to help – and I know he might be able to. But I haven’t been this beaten down in a long time, and my fear is that I will take it all out on him, if he comes. I do not want to do that to him. He doesn’t deserve it. He’s been on the end of my wrath and insanity too many times. He is patient, loving, kind. He needs support as much as I do, I just don’t know if I have it in me at this moment. I hope I do. I hope I can be a better person to him than I am to myself, my family, others who barely cross my radar these days.
But the waves keep crashing over me. I am not ready for this. I am not ready for what the future holds, and I am having a hard time believing this morning that it will get any better.
© Sorrow & Kindness