Some days I’m happy, some days I’m sad and some days I’m angry. It seems like the angry days outweigh the happy days, but reality is I experience all these emotions daily. It feels like the anger is in control, but the sadness seems to linger as well. I have no idea how I’m going to react from one minute to the next and then feeling flat for extended periods. And I’m always tired.
I’ve never been suicidal. But at times when I get low I begin to feel like life would be easier if it just stopped. That’s sometimes how I’m feeling now. I’m sick of being angry. Angry at my kids, angry at Zombie, angry at my situation. A situation I wanted. Angry of having to keep on keeping on when all I want is to stop for a few days.
I’m physically tired. Tired from having three young children taking turns keeping us up at night and busy all day. I’m mentally tired. Tired of being on edge all the time, tired of fighting, snapping, yelling and crying uncontrollably throughout the day. I’m tired of having arguments in my head, of reliving every conversation I’ve ever had over and over. Of standing in the shower, wasting water while defending myself to people who are never going to hear it and who probably never meant offense in the first place. I’m tired of feeling like I have no personality, that I’m just a shell going through the motions with nothing important to offer. I know it’s not true but that doesn’t stop my brain from thinking it. I’m tired of people asking how I am and responding that I’m always tired when I tell them so. I’m tired of pretending to be okay to protect myself from people feeling sorry for me.
Mostly I’m tired of making promises to myself that I can’t keep. Promises to eat better, to go for walks, to do some yoga, to take some time out (Zombie gives me plenty but at the moment I just can’t seem to get enough). I’m tired of knowing what I need to do to ‘fix’ myself but not being able to action it. Even if I did get myself up and running again I sometimes wonder if there’s any point. I don’t seem to be able to maintain it, I give up at the first sign of trouble. Life is full of troubles so why bother?
I realised the other day that in my 35 years I’ve never been truly happy. I’ve had plenty of good times in my life. I’ve had a lot of laughs and have some wonderful memories, but Depression and Anxiety always lingered in the background threatening to attack at any moment. Even as a child I’d spend my days worrying. I’m happy to have a wonderful partner and three beautiful children, but something in me just won’t let me be truly at peace.
I know I’ll be okay. Parenting won’t get easier, but I’ll probably get better at coping with it plus as the boys grow they should hopefully become less reliant on me 24/7. I’ll keep going to my support groups. I’ll pick myself back up every time I get angry and sad and I’ll continue to enjoy the moments of happiness. I’ll make my way through the flat moments until I get out the other side. With the weather getting better I may even find it easier to keep some of the promises I make myself.
I don’t want advice. For some reason advice currently makes me angry and resentful. I don’t want people feeling sorry for me, that makes me feel like a failure and I’m doing that to myself enough. I don’t want to be told that this will pass, that it’ll be okay, that I’m strong, that I have a lot of my plate. Most of all I don’t want to be told to suck it up, reminded how lucky I am and that people have it worse than me. I know all this. I just want to be happy.