Why is nighttime so much more difficult than during the day? Is it punishment, for powering through and doing your best and suppression and smiling during the day?
I thought I was doing and feeling a bit better, at least; Sunday evening on the way home from the office, I felt like crying, but then I pulled onto the highway and halfway home I felt this strange…euphoria? type of feeling, and I felt like everything was going to be okay! I felt I had finally accepted my lot in life, that I would not make enough to have independence, I would not have an employer that will provide benefits, that I would never get married or have children, I probably wouldn’t even be able to make it out of Texas again…haha. I just felt… happy! Like I was finally okay with my fate, like the sadness wouldn’t keep me awake anymore, and I could finally finish my projects that I’ve put on the back burner since the latest Unfortunate Emotional Betrayal by Disappointingly Unempathetic Friend in the Life of Fae~…which I am ashamed to say, really put me out of commission longer than it should have. It happens a lot, and it’s been happening a lot recently, and I should be used to it by now… It makes me think that it’s me… It probably is me.
Ugh. Anyways, everything is okay, watching trashy tv and eating a late dinner or some fruit and crackers, and then all of a sudden… BAMYOULOSERREMEMBERTHATTIMEYOUSAIDTHATDUMBTHINGHAHANOWONDERYOURESOUNLOVABLEANDFATEWGROSS. 🙁
If I didn’t have my sleeping pills, I probably wouldn’t sleep.
I need to visit the doctor and get new prescriptions, but I don’t want to. He’s a very nice man, and he seems to think I’m nice too, but I just think that he doesn’t actually believe me when I tell him what’s wrong. Like, he sees my mom when she comes in with my ill father, and she’s talkative and strong and just an all-around tough lady; then I come in for my appointments, and I’m this meek, shyly smiling (sometimes), tired, chubby mess, who folds into herself and talks a bit more quietly on particularly bad days. He seems my mother, and he says me, and he says “…I don’t understand why you feel this way. You’ve done so much, and you’re a smart, nice lady…” So I tell him… and his advice? “You need to be tough like your mom.”
….sigh. I dunno. He’s really nice. Really. And he’s just a GP, because I just…don’t know if I can handle a psychiatrist or a therapist right now.
But honestly when he said that, half of me wanted to give him the side-eye, and half of me wanted to further deflate into my chair.
I would actually LOVE to have a conversation about it with him, if he can’t understand how looks can be deceiving and i’m not CHOOSING to be happy and how things in the past can sometimes have such a vise-like grip on you… so you’re forced to come face to face with it… until you can distract yourself from it, of course.
Sorry, I made this much longer than I intended, but I feel a little better.
Thanks guys, for being around, for actually understanding, for speaking to me sometimes.
not sure what that is, but why didn’t anyone ever tell me nonpareils were so messy?? 🙁 …as I acciidentally tip a bag of a few dark choco ones on top of my bed.
…guh. But perhaps I can have sweet dreams :3 sweet…bumpy dream.
(potential) love you guuuyyyys
Have a great, safe night tonight