Saturday, January 28, 2012

Seventy-five

Milligrams, that is.

Not even halfway to the therapeutic dose.

And I appear to be awake and alive and this wont do at all because there is the fetal position to assume and the intrusive thoughts about how unfair it is that I have kids, because now I can't not be alive and I am trapped trapped trapped and none of it can be undone.

My brain needs to be occupied so as to avoid those nasty thoughts because being in that spiral will only lead to more madness. But really, I have been reduced to reading dooce, for fucks sake. Next stop, Cornflakes boxes.





4 comments:

  1. I know the feeling. Dooce isn't all bad. On a bad day, at least. At least she's not all happy mummy. Happy mummies make me stabby, because I'm jealous.

    I was reduced to watching DVDs with the kids and drawing crayons. Round and round and round I went. As long as my hands were busy, my mind was mostly blank....

    I hope this passes soon....

    xxxooo

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  2. Enid Blyton. Over and over again.
    Then add some LOLcats and another day is through.

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  3. Anonymous1:05 am

    I read janny wurts books, over and over and over. escaped into fantasy, into someone else's life, someone capable and strong and in another world, another dimension. anything to not be me. I Existed in that other world so much i couldn't go out the door. But then i accepted that if thats what i needed to do to cope and find comfort then that was okay. i was not a failure, there was nothing wrong with me, i just wasn't coping and dammit there were things going on in my life that were hard to cope with. you are not s failure either. you are a very special woman with a beautiful light in your soul. every day is a New day. the past is gone. it cannot hurt you anymore. People don't look at you and see the ugliness of the past. they see and feel the beautiful spirit thats so evident in everthing you are.

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  4. I really like Dooce... and right now she's not doing that well, which makes her blog a bit better, I think. I'm sorry things are so hard right now. I often think that parenting is just way too hard and even awful at times. I cannot imagine how it feel to deal with it with a mental illness on top of what is already an excruciatingly hard job. Hang in there! We're hoping it will get better.

    ReplyDelete

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