Life change needed

Mia day. I’m so fucking stressed. My anxiety is making it hard for me to breathe today. I can’t get out of my house. The thought makes me want to cry. 

I need more money. I need more time. I need to work for myself. I know the switch will work. I know the transition might be hard. But I want it. I want to work for myself, buy a new car, make more money, have time to work out and eat better, not have any more kids, get on meds, and just generally take better care of myself. I want it all. I’m tired of being scared. I’m tired of suffering. I need to make this change. 

But it scares the shit out of me also. 

Home alone is not good for me. Not as glamorous and relaxing as I thought it would be. Drinking did me no favors, smoking makes me eat, Xanax makes me pass out. I just need to get myself together. Routine needs to become my drug. 

Manic

I’ve lost 16lbs since my surgery. The scale has been kind lately, and I feel like I have found a groove with my eating and diet. I have been doing well with it and feeling better, and I haven’t felt that in a long time.

Weed is not my friend. Weed makes me binge. I need to stay away from it forever. 

I’m manic. Last week I was depressed. This weekend is the party, so I imagine I’ll stay manic until Sunday. I’ve only slept 7 hours twice, and then 6, and then 5 for the past 4 days. It’s 5am and I’m awake. I’ve been awake an hour. I went to sleep at midnight. My brain will not shut off. 

I told my husband I don’t want to have another baby. I explained why. I told him if it was a deal-breaker, we still could - that I would rise to the occasion. I told him I don’t want him to be disappointed for the rest of our lives. We decided to wait until September to decide fully. I really hope he’s ok with not having more… I can’t even begin to get into my thoughts on it right now, but I really have given this thought, and I’m not sold. 

I want to be medicated. I want to stop skipping work. I want to stop feeling suicidal. I want to sleep. I want to quit my job. I want to move away. I want to buy a home. I want to be thin. 

Thoughts on screen

Another depressed day. I think I have PMDD. It’s so hard to fall asleep lately, and even harder to wake up, because there is no dose of Unisom that doesn’t make me lethargic in the morning. Before I know it, I’m calling out while practically still dreaming, and then regretting it at 9am. The baby is happy, but his mommy is a fucking train wreck. 

Today’s plan = no smoking, no binging, no purging. No more spending money or even thinking about money. Cook the planned dinner. Coffee for breakfast and 600 cals of a decent planned lunch (kudos on the shopping for lunch, kiddo). Something to reward myself after all this hubbub bullshit if I can just make it to evening time. Take a shower at least twice. 

Maybe my cigarettes will arrive today… I wish, but doubt. Tracking says no… 

I need to calm the fuck down. Maybe I’ll take a Xanax if this extreme feeling of anxiety persists. It’s been days of it currently. I don’t know how to shake it. I don’t know how to stop feeling bad. Xanax isn’t even what I want to be doing. It works, but I hate it. I can’t stay present whether I take it or not.

I think I have to quit watching that show. It’s too triggering. I need content that doesn’t make me spiral. Does that even exist lately?? 

I think I need a new job. I was good when I didn’t have to go to work… my mental health can’t handle my fucking job. That’s rich. 

Drink your coffee and take a bath, you fat slob. Shave your fucking legs. You don’t even deserve your husband… do something with your kid. You’re a dumb fucking stupid mom. 

Your own mom is a piece of shit, you know. She is a terrible mom, and your lack of love for her is not your fault. You’re already a better mom. You’ll continue to be a better mom - don’t worry. You don’t have to listen anymore. You escaped like you always wanted to. It’s ok that you did that. Let yourself run away. 

Sensory bin for baby. 

Mia

I’m bulimic. There’s really no question about it at this point. It’s definitely several times a week, sometimes several times a day. I definitely can’t keep smoking. I definitely need to control myself better. 

I would like to take credit for the cinnamon roll, but how can I now? I allowed a terrible swerving of direction that has now crash landed me where it always does - in the fucking toilet.

It’s too easy. To fix mistakes. And not think, “I want to die,” anymore. The alternative is so pretty. 

I wish I was pretty. I don’t think I ever got the chance to be… I don’t think I will now. There is only fading left. And how tragic that I never figured it out. We don’t always have enough time or focus or energy I guess. I placed it elsewhere. Probably the only thing that kept me alive. 

But then again what kind of life is this?? Should I just focus late in the game? There is always a standard. I want to live up to one. Just one, ffs. 

It’s not impostering if you’re not even believable. Then it’s just you not deserving to be there.

I wish I was going to a convention this year. I need a fucking vacation.