Mamaca

All that is
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2023-01-25 00:25:53 (UTC)

What a day. Feels like I’ve ..

What a day. Feels like I’ve worked my arse off and yet I feel I’ve done nothing. Started off good then side tracked thinking I could systemise a few things and then as usual got caught up in the system itself and perfecting it. Just do the fucking work, worry about structure and processes later, when you actually have content to plug into the processes. I shouldn’t beat myself up but it’s annoying. It puts me in a shitty state of mind. That feeling of running on the spot and getting nowhere. Like wtf is the point of anything I’m doing. The way my moods fluctuate in this house I swear makes me wonder. Tomorrow I have my first appointment with the cbt therapist. And they better come correct. They better be clued up. I don’t want to go in explaining myself too much. Anyway the only reason I’m doing it with a trainee is to quicken the process and get a letter. Cos the way I’m feeling rn I’m ready to bite off heads.

Fuck fuck fuck. Feel like I’m in the same spot. It’s hard when there’s no way to measure progress at this stage. The site is ready but also it’s kinda not fully complete. The perosn working on it is getting on my nerves.

Any contact with my mmy fucks up my mood. I hate the life she’s created for herself. How miserable everything is. I hate that I can’t not care. Can’t stop myself from wanting to intervene. And I hate that I have to watch it unfold day in day out. Like a tragedy. What a waste. Im angry at her for not doing more to try to make it different. For accepting what she got. Taking it lying down. But I might not be so angry at her if I didn’t have to witness it all still unfolding day in day out, her habits and the tendencies that kept her here still unchanged, still in effect.
But I have no choice currently but to be here and I hate it, that I’m forced to be an actor in this horror show. i see no other way for this story to end either. There’ll be no turn around last minute, no eventuality where she gets to enjoy the last years of her life, no glory or happy ending, nothing. Bad things happen to good people and that’s it. Life gives you lemons and that’s it. And I have a front-row seat. And I guess part of my anger comes from the feeling of already knowing how this is likely to end. A waste. I hate that every decision I’ve ever made as an adult has been linked to this somehow, to prevent me from ever having to come back. Despite that, here I am.

I also don’t want to be left holding the bag. When she goes or he goes, whichever comes first. I don’t deserve that. I fantasise about leaving here going to somewhere far away where I can’t be reached and not telling anyone. Just disappearing.


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