It has been a particularly difficult week for me. For some unknown reason my mood had worsened, I am having extremely negative thoughts, I have nobody to tell...and lets be honest who would really care to listen to such a misery. I seem to be carrying some kind of internally pressing weight, I feel it almost suffocating me and, again, for no reason I am disolving into tears randomly. I have declined offers to go out. I have kept myself to myself and it's probably not fair to inflict myself on others at this time...
I wait for it to pass...I hope it will dissolve as it usually does after a few days, but it appears to be unwilling to leave me alone at the moment. I have slept such a lot this week. Literally I have come home from work and fallen into my bed, curled up into a ball and slept..it has helped somewhat. At least when I am asleep, I am not thinking about how completely ****** and miserable I feel.
I know I have to work out the solution myself. I know I am alienating myself. I know I am not a bad person but I just do not think I am important. I have no worth as a human being. Of course I work...I provide a service and I get paid. I work to keep a roof over my head and a potential home for my kids...but my kids have gone and they won't be coming back to live here. I feel sorry for my kids that they got me for a mother. I wish so much that I could be one of those confident happy mothers who involved myself constructively in their lives. When they were babies I held down a job and did other peoples laundry to make money to feed them, I taught them to read and write and to swim. I read to them and played with them...I painted and coloured in with them. I stayed up late to make sure they had clean uniforms...I also divorced their alcoholic father...they never forgave me...everything I had ever done for them was erased by my divorcing their dad and I didn't have a voice to defend myself.
Now I just push people away. I absolutely am fighting to just recognise who I am when this mist descends upon me. It's like being dragged away by an invisible hand into the pit of hell. I know people think I should get help, but help means living on medication, help means actually having to tell someone and I am afraid that if I start to cry in front of someone, I won't be able to stop. I am scared that if I let go just a tiny little bit, that I will never regain control.
Next week or whenever, I will manage to losen the grip again, I will just suddenly feel less oppressed and I will be able to function normally again and feel like seeing my friends...but this week it got me bad. I cannot tell anyone how I feel...there is no one to tell, and I dont think anyone would understand.
I wish I knew the future for me, because if it is bleak and lonely and full of fear, I'd like to have the option to cut out early if it's going to be intolerable.
Why did this happen to me.