Anxious and depressed….wired and tired.
I hate feeling like this. I was just depressed. I forced myself to get a few things done that desperately needed to be done. I took one of the frozen meals that I had the forethought to pack up a few weeks ago, because I just don’t see me cooking dinner today.
But after I got those few chores done, the butterflies in my stomach are awake and trying to bust out and run amuck. I’m so tired. And now I’m edgy. I took a klonopin, so in a half hour I’ll be ready for bed.
That was yesterday.
I ended up going and laying down around 3:00 pm and slept until 5:30am this morning. I’m exhausted. I know that if I went and laid down right now I would go to sleep. For hours. Hell, the only reason I got up this morning is because I had to pee. The only reason I stayed up was to feed the cats and go to therapy.
I think that it is the giving in on the kitchen space. I keep going to straighten up the food in the fridge or on the cabinet and stop myself. Not gonna let this be my problem. But, then, what is my purpose? What’s the point?
I didn’t know how worthless giving up that control was going to make me feel. I really didn’t. I thought it would be freeing. I knew it would be hard, but I did think, that in the long run, I would feel better because I wouldn’t be spending all my time “fixing” things.
The thing is, and this is what Karen will tell me, is that handling the cooking and shopping and all that is my job. I don’t work outside of the home. I work inside of the home and this is a really big part of it.
And, now, I don’t have that either.
I made a salad this morning for me to eat later. It was nearly impossible to find the things I had purchased for this salad because it was all hidden behind 2 (?) rotisserie chicken from the grocery store, cannoli filling, cannolis and various other piles of crap. I wonder how long she’s going to keep those chickens.
I still get to do the laundry though! woohoo.
I still get to try and keep the dinky little room we jokingly call our bedroom as clean as possible. It’s not very possible. It’s literally only a tiny bit bigger then the bed that is in there. It’s near impossible to move around, let alone organize. It’s an overwhelming task, and truthfully, I don’t even know where to start.
Giving up my tasks in the kitchen is so hard. It’s exhausting to try to not care. I don’t know if I’m sleeping so much to escape or because it’s so exhausting.
I don’t know.