Tag: #sad

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. 

Mother’s Day

I should feel happy.  But I don’t. I should feel grateful. But I don’t. I feel an incredibly overwhelming sadness right now. Sadness that neither my husband or I having any family that we are close to. For not really having much of a family to offer our daughter. I’m mad at myself that I don’t feel more grateful. More loved. More happiness. I cried in the shower this morning. I’m sitting in a red polka-dotted towel still crying. I can’t seem to shake this melancholy. 

My husband asked me what I wanted to do today. I can’t even come up with any kind of answer. I whispered “I don’t know” while holding back another round of tears. 

All I see is responsibility. Dishes to be done. Laundry to be folded. Meals to be made. House to be cleaned. Diapers to be changed. Dog to be walked. The list is endless. Where does that leave room for fun?  For me?

I’m so tired of the endless sadness.