Tag: #hatethesefeelings

Good Enough

Recently, I’ve been feeling this inexplicable sense that somehow life is passing me by. I am sitting on the sidelines of my own life and it gives me so much anxiety I can hardly breathe. I feel so depleted physically and emotionally from the past week, and yet, my body, my soul, is screaming out from inside of me to do something! Except I don’t know what that something is. I feel so lost right now, so completely unfulfilled, and I don’t know how to remedy it and it is driving me slowly insane. I am not happy right now with my career, my personal life, my finances, my love life, my health & well-being…it all needs an overhaul and a revamp. I don’t know where to begin.

I have been in the house for almost 10 days now, from my daughter testing positive for Covid, to me testing positive last Friday. With the exception of two short Target pick up orders (with masks!) and walks by myself, I have been stuck within the confines of this house. I am lonely and in need of connection very badly. However, I feel like the only connection I can come by these days comes with a price: money or sex. I am running short on the first and I don’t have the energy right now to use my body as currency for connection. I literally cannot have someone take from me without it being returned in full force. And so I sit here, the dog my solo companion.

I keep thinking to myself – when am I going to get it together? But honestly, deep down inside I know that is a very harsh, uncompassionate response to myself. I know this! And I know that voice is not my own…it likely stems from my mother. Or step-mother. Or one of the other cruel teachers from my life. My own inner being is not cruel; she is inquisitive, joyful, hopeful, playful, curious, and loving. I have been so tired of having tough experiences that have hardened me in some form or fashion. I’m ready to live a life of ease, of softness. I’ve got myself and can take care of everything in my life, but I am tired of having to do it all alone. We weren’t meant to be alone. We weren’t meant to be lonely.

I’m crying as I type these words out, knowing that all these feelings have to come out somehow. I can no longer suppress them and have this resentment, anger, or sadness welling up inside of me. They must come out. So I type, and cry, cry and type, until I feel like enough of my emotions have been released that I can say “Good enough” for today and put my computer away.

Parents: You are On Your Own!

This is what I do not understand about this country at all. Alleged pro-lifers (you are just pro-birthers really) scream and shout about saving a child’s life! Don’t let harm come to an innocent! But there is no support system in place in this godforsaken country AFTER you give birth to support you as a parent. None. You are on your own 100% of the time, and any support you do find, you will pay through the damn nose for.

Both my ex and I work in Corporate America, and even though the pandemic rages on, most corporations have discontinued any kind of pandemic support. Neither of us has any paid sick time if one of us or our daughter gets sick. Well, guess what happened last week? Our daughter tested positive for Covid. While thankfully she appears to have had a mild case, my ex had to eat the daycare money he had already pre-paid for the week ($300+), while simultaneously trying to work with a kid at home. While his boss was flexible, if you are not a parent, you cannot possibly understand how completely and utterly exhausting this is. Trying to still get shit done with a kid at home is next to impossible. But still, you try because you do not have the time or ability to take off from work. The work will be piling up if you ARE fortunate enough to have the paid time to take off. Add to that trying not to get sick FROM her as a result, and that only adds to the anxiety. I do recognize our privilege here in that we even CAN stay home with our child; many, MANY parents in this country do not even have this option available to them.

Since we live in a city with no family, we have no built-in support structure in place. No grandparents or other relatives to be able to help out with our kid in times like these. His only support system is me and I am his. Today is technically day #8 and she is STILL testing positive on an antigen test. I want to do the right thing, in case she still is contagious, by keeping her home with me today. I would feel horrible intentionally exposing other children at our daycare. Again, I recognize my privilege as a lot of parents cannot even do this, even if they really wanted to. So that means she is home with me today.

Last week, I felt completely overwhelmed with the sheer volume of work that was on my plate. Having her home with me does not help that feeling of overwhelm. In fact, my boss wrote back to ask if there was anything she could help with and my snarky reply was: Can you help with the impending mental breakdown? As you can imagine, she hasn’t replied. How do you even reply to that? Even though I was one million percent serious, there is little to no help she can offer me, because I work in a technical field that she does not have any skills. Again, whatever I cannot get done in terms of work will be piling up and waiting for me. It doesn’t go away. The workload, the overwhelm, the worry, the constant struggle to be everything to everyone all the time…it doesn’t go away ever as a parent. This feeling that if you are kicking ass in your career that somehow means you are neglecting your duties as a mother or vice versa. This persistent feeling of failing in at least one major area of your life at all times.

I sit at my work laptop, attempting to tackle the pile of work, and being unable to summon the energy or focus needed to get started right now. In all reality, with my mental health right now, I could stand to take about a month off of work….but I can’t because almost no one in this country can afford to take unpaid leave of any kind, even if they desperately need it. I feel almost panicky, since I know whatever gets put aside today will just be added to the pile for tomorrow. This cycle of feeling buried, with no support or relief in sight, is so very depressing. I fucking hate this country so much at times.

Pick Myself Up

We are at the park. It’s a beautiful day. I feel incapable of joy. Or any positive emotion. I want to cry, almost all the time. I know my husband is frustrated with me. I see how he looks at me, disgusted at times. He’s even referred to me “poor you” when he’s really angry with me. I know I’m impacting him. I don’t sleep very well at night. I look around at all these happy families and think, “Why can’t that be me?” The tears spill down my cheeks. Even my dog isn’t sitting by me. He’d much rather explore the park.

Every day feels like an uphill climb for me. I’m not just on the struggle bus; I’m driving that bitch. Have been for awhile.

I’m in therapy. Work out regularly. Keep a gratitude journal. Eat right. Try to get enough sleep. Am trying to find a psychiatrist to get me on a medication that may help. This sadness overwhelms all my efforts. I hate feeling this way.

I want something different for my life, my legacy. I don’t want this endless trail of sadness to follow me. Yet I don’t know how to pick myself up.

Perfect Timing

Perfect timing for my daughter to get sick. 2-1/2 weeks into a new job. With no manager or director right now. Sigh. Tuesday night we were up half the night with her because she wasn’t feeling well. Poor peanut, I know this is not her fault but shit. What awful timing!

Yesterday I stayed home from work with her. I tried to do some work when she napped but also wanted to make sure I took good care of her. I was able to still attend a conference call because the husband came home from work. I felt so incredibly guilty when I was working and not taking care of V, and then felt guilty when I was with her and not attending to my work. It’s incredibly exhausting to feel like an octopus juggling all these balls in the air. And the sad fact? By trying to spread myself so thin I’m not doing any of these things well. At all.

Last night she still had almost a 103 fever. I felt so bad for her because I knew she was miserable. Poor baby. Even though she woke up with no fever this morning, I still wanted to keep her home for another day.

Which meant another morning of trying to juggle. Then rushing off to work for an afternoon filled with meetings and trainings. Sigh. These are days that I wish I could clone myself.