Time Flies

Tempis Fugit
2012-08-27 15:27:24 (UTC)

old friend-ish

I wrote this to someone I know, who, on occasion seems like they might have some insights that could help me... I did not proof myself on this (much-just spelling), which is very uncharacteristic of myself. This person makes me feel incredibly inferior in so many ways. Not that it is on purpose... hell what do I know, maybe it is. Anyway, this is what I wrote.

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I am told I have one main issue. Follow through. It does not seem to matter what the project is, I just don't finish. I am told this is because I feel like I should not be judged my unfinished work... not sure if that is true, but it sure does not paint me in a very good light.

I freeze. I get overwhelmed by tackling seemingly normal everyday things... like this weekend I was in panic mode because I felt overwhelmed by pressures. Pressures of bills and work and all that... but the things that set me off were how in the world was I going to wash Madelyn's water bottles and put them away in the cabinet now that my mother in law gave us so many bottles (from garage sales that we don't want to get rid of because it might hurt her feelings) in the cabinet where we keep all the bottles!?!?!? I literally could not figure out what to do. Madelyn made a mess (of something I asked her to put away- deck of cards) while I was picking stuff up and I could not handle it.

I lost it. Got soooo mad, it took me hours to come down. Now I am in this post stress depression place. Just want to go back to bed, find a hole, go in and be done. I did not used to think my biggest liability was me, but it is.

I am told I need to see a therapist... this is probably true. I honestly don't trust them... not that I have reason to not trust them, but why would I...? My sister was on meds and ended up being declared incompetent. My parents still take care of her, more or less, and she is 6 years older than me. She is definitely on the mend, but went through a really long deep and dark spell. She blamed the meds... so I feel pretty uncomfortable with that... I know they have helped you, and that's great. I keep making excuses to not go. Like work only pays for 6 visits... and then there is the $20 co-pay... and when would I possibly schedule it for? I don't get free time, ever. Literally ever.

I have also felt forever that my depression was mine and mine alone to deal with. I am learning it is also my families, as they have to see me battle over and over... or rather not battle, but wait it out... and the deeper I am the more I get claustrophobic... the walls and crap everywhere get so suffocating... and even when I try and clean, I can't get the feeling to go away.

I still think about suicide. Not daily, but often enough, I suppose. I don't make plans like I used to when I was younger.

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I could have kept writing... but if I did, I probably would not have sent it.

I would have talked about how I don't want to tell a therapist about my diary. I don't want to tell a therapist about thoughts of suicide. I don't want to tell a therapist about my lack luster love life, or how I scared the crap out of my kids this weekend. I don't want to tell a therapist I cry at work, or in the shower.

I don't want to, I just don't.

So, there it is.




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