See, I told you I wouldn't post with any regularity. Things are still pretty crappy, with brief spotting of nice in between. But it's still the same shit over and over and over again. I sit at work all day, my husband sleeps. I know he hates not having a job, and it's been about a year. It's hard not to resent him. He's either asleep, or playing on the computer. And anything that needs to be done, he doesn't do or takes a long time to do partly because of the ADD and partly because he's gotten to the point that just thinking about doing anything makes him anxious. I can't get too upset at that, because I understand it completely. And I hate that he's having to go through it. I know he'd rather it be different. But I'm still here having to get out of bed and be professional every day. And my heart is not in it. Not in getting out of bed. Not in talking to anyone. Not in anything. My dad's in the hospital, going on two months now. He got better, he got worse, and visiting him triggers massive depression for me. Which, of course, makes me feel guilty, because he certainly feels worse about being in the hospital that I do! Other than one friend, and occasionally my crazy brother, I'm the only one who goes to see him. No other family. Not my sister, not my step-mother, no family "friends," just me. I feel completely impotent, and I'm at the point where I hate going ... which, of course, makes me feel guilty, because he needs me to be there! I just want to crawl into a dark hole, squeeze into an even darker crevice in the back, curl up, and ... wish it would all go away...
A little bit of insight into the craziness that is me, I even feel guilty for writing something completely depressing! Like I should leave you with something uplifting, or make a joke or something. I wish I were as good at taking care of myself as I try to be at taking care of others. I wish wishes were real. (I wish my fucking Prozac would kick in!!)
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