It’s Getting Bad Again…

Today started out pretty good. I actually slept until 8am. Usually it’s 5am. I had my coffee and even went to the club to workout. I went with my roommate shopping. All of these things are good. So why do I feel as though my world is closing in around me? It’s spinning and I can’t make it stop. I feel sick inside. Really sick. My vision is even blurry. Writing this is even hard, but I know if don’t I’ll die.

An alarm went off on my phone. Baba and Cica’s Anniversary-today is the 27th. Our anniversary isn’t until October 27th, but we celebrated every month. I want to crawl in a hole. I can’t even afford to go to a nice dinner in William’s honor. I know money is not the answer, but it’s the fucking principle. I am so over all of this shit.

I’m shaking and crying all the time. But I can’t let my roommate see me because then that just gives her the green light to give her opinion or so she thinks. I do want to be better. I know my meds aren’t strong enough, but right now I’m stretching them until I get paid. Maybe that’s part of the problem too. So, I hide in my room.

Okay I took a hot bath and my body feels better, but I must just be insane. I think of William as I’m drying off. Remembering when I used to sometimes forget my towel. He never got mad either. It didn’t matter if he was working on a big job. He’d just laugh and say here Cica.

I need a hug and kiss so bad right now and he’s not here! The one person I could always count on is gone. I just don’t see how you ever live without that person. I know I met that man and for a few days my pain wasn’t as bad. But it was there. Always there.

I really don’t have anyone to talk to like I do you. I can to my therapist but I forget what I want to tell her half the time. She keeps saying she’s going to read my blog but hasn’t yet.

I was always a loner growing up and I guess I am again. That’s probably not good for a person like me but it is what is. Not much I can do about it right now with limited resources.

I’m trying to stay positive. It’s so tiring. It’s like I’m being fake. But if you don’t people really don’t want to be around you because you’re too depressing. Catch 22. People ask you how you are but they really don’t want to know how you really are.

If I could just go to sleep and not wake up. That would be okay. I know that’s probably not going to happen. I’m not going to die by suicide. I could not do that to my daughter. It’s just all these things in my head and feelings and emotions that nobody but me gives a fuck about. I want to scream. I want my family to care. But they’re not going to and I can’t change that.

So it’s getting bad again…