::sigh::

These are the days where hanging from rope don't quite express with exact preciseness the feelings boiling up.

Tough days. Tough days.

I am sick. I am aware of this. I understand the severity of my situation at times. But I refuse to go and get more pills, more meds, more bullshit ways to cope. I don't want anyone to tell me 'it will be allright', 'everyone has their bad days'. I know this. But I want to wallow in my pity. I want to wallow in the ball of yarn my life has turned into.

This weekend was the re-opening of a club I went to when I was single. Everyone was there. Everyone except me, of course. And everyone asked about me. Where was I? Well, where I am every Friday. Home. Watching "Six Feet Under", going to bed at 9pm cuz I have to get up early to go to yet ANOTHER therapy. Whoopee. Ain't life grand at 27.

The people at the club who asked for me, seems stuck in time. But I wonder, are they really? Or am I the one who has been stuck in a sick time warp zone that repeats itself over and over and over. I feel like I'm in a Hitchcock version of "Ground Hog's Day".

I am so sick of therapies, doctors, school appointments.
I am sick of being stuck in a crappy job because it pays the fucking bills.
I am sick of having to live check by check, cuz all my money goes into my daughter.
I am sick of all my adult conversations revolving around Autism.
I am sick of knowing, that most likely this is as far as I'm gonna get professionally.
I am sick of knowing that maybe there is a possibility that my daughter won't get any better than she already is and that I will be stuck in this via-cruxis.
I am sick of insomnia.
I am sick of having a fucked up brain that thinks things it shouldn't, especially on days like this.
I am sick of thinking that maybe the best way out, is to bail completely.
I am sick of being so selfish by thinking the above.
I am sick of not wanting to even look at my daughter, even though I know it is not her fault.
I am sick of ponies, clothespins, spoons and crap laying around the house.
I am sick of not being able to go to a fucking movie (like today) without having to competely abandon ship, cuz Miss C is out of her wits, AGAIN (like all this week).
I am sick of feeling completely alone in a house where 3 people live downstairs.
I am sick of crying at everything, because my emotions are so high strung lately.
I am sick of pretending all is great and all is fine.
I am sick. ::sigh::

I am so sick of so many other things I can hardly jot down because of my thobbing headache. I wanna cry until I can't no more, but that seems dearly impossible. Sometimes I feel that there is no fucking way out. And not even the smile of my daughter, her kiss or her laugh can make that better. ::sigh::

I've had a tough week, weekend and last fews hours as my full meltdown paved it's way. I should be used to it by now, and that is probably what I deserve for going off my meds, thinking I was much better. I am surely not.

Sorry. I just had to ramble off for a while and blow some steam...
I did an earlier steam blowing, verbal version, today.
I still had some stuff in my system.
Thank you for reading. And don't worry, I'll be ok.

And to you, you know who u are, that listened to me ramble and watched with despair, I am sorry, but I am grateful you listened. ::sigh::

I'm sure I'll be back on my regularly scheduled program tomorrow or day after...

Out.

****