Overnights

There are some moments with my husband where I don’t give a fuck about taking the high road, how it’ll make him feel, or any of that shit. 

And basically all day today was one of those moments. 

Last night, I was up with Baby, trying to handle the bulk of the night, because Husband acts like being awake in the middle of the night is the worst thing he could be experiencing... Like, bitch… you used to elect to do this shit on the regular, but now that it involves our kid, you can’t? 

He took over the overnight shift as his responsibility recently, and Baby has had a good run where he’s been sleeping better, but that’s not the norm, and this man got clearly pretty fucking disillusioned pretty quickly… 

So I’ve been doing the initial check in, giving Baby things he wants, changing his diaper, whatever, and then I straight up tell Baby, “it’s the middle of the night, so mommy is going back to sleep, and you should too.” He doesn’t cry anymore in the middle of the night like when he was an actual baby - he understands now. But sometimes he stays up for hours, and sometimes he doesn’t go back to sleep at all, and sometimes he’s loud. So I put in headphones. The older ones sleep through it. If he actually cries, I do wake up - I make sure my headphone volume isn’t nuts, and I set a timer on my white noise for like two hours to go back and check on him. I’ve got a whole fucking system, because I’ve been doing this shit for 6 years. And then recently, husband wants the gig. I make all the money and pay bills; he’s a stay at home parent. Sure. 

Only issue is, he’s a fucking little bitch who can’t handle literally anything. So he just has bitch-ass meltdowns. And last night, he was acting like a belligerent piece of shit, so I barely got to sleep, not even because Baby, but because this man woke me up literally 6 times in 3 hours acting like complete trash. 

This morning I didn’t let it go. I laid there at 6am with like 3 hours of sleep plotting to ignore him all day to make myself feel better. Because at this point, it legit does… 

He acts ashamed, and comes at me with, “We need a better system.” I said, “YOU need a system, and you refuse to create a consistent one, because you think he’s going to magically start sleeping through the night, and you’re disillusioned, because he slept better for a while. This is YOUR role.” Later, he said we “need to put the monitor on [his] side,” and I snapped back with, “doesn’t matter where it’s at if you’re downstairs on the fucking couch.” I continued with, “This is the fucking reason I did it for so long, because when you’re the one, we’re divorcing and you’re gonna kill yourself, and I get even less fucking sleep and get treated like shit by you in the middle of the night. So my quality of life is better if I just handle shit myself. Because you argue with me about the process like I haven’t done it for 6 fucking years.”    

Like I literally let nothing go, and said all the things directly and without hesitation. Then I checked out. All day this cycle - he comes at me with sometime weak af; I slam him and leave and ignore with basically no emotion in my response. 

Because I have none left. 

As evidenced by when he comes at me later, attacking me and Baby, because Baby is stimming… And I went OFF. Like really carelessly yelled at him over and over to shut the fuck up and go away. Not even angry, just like I didn’t give a fuuuuck. He was running his mouth, and I couldn’t even hear it, I swear… I just kept telling him to yes, please, go ahead and run away from home. 

I swear I’m so on the fence about him in life at any given moment. I would literally never try to stop him. I love him, but I really don’t fucking like him very frequently. 

It’s probably largely because I think that all men are fucking scum, honestly. And I just don’t care anymore. He acts like he’s some amazing parent, when he’s not. 

When I went to give Baby nighttime meds, I saw he hadn’t given him his afternoon ones. And he’s blaming me for Baby’s behavior - that I’m not a good mom or attentive enough, when he literally said I could go lay down (since he fucking kept me up all night), I had already bathed and groomed Baby, and I was still interacting with him in my bed. And it’s literally because he was not being a good dad and didn’t give him his medication. 

And wtf is even so wrong with his stimming? He fires at me, “You just ignore him so hard you can’t even hear it.” I replied, “No bitch, I hear it. It’s just that I love him so much it doesn’t fucking bother me that he’s autistic like it does your ass.” Honesty to god, the noises don’t bother me, and I’m sick of him acting like I’m supposed to try to get Baby to stop every time. He’s fucking in a good mood when he’s doing it; fuck off and die, plz. Get used to it - it’s been fucking YEARS. 

Then I got 3 weak ass texts with apologies and excuses and trying to bait me to respond and a couple cameo appearances in our room. And I ignored all of it. 

I honestly have zeroooo fucks to give about it at this moment in life. I have bigger concerns and bigger efforts to make, and me and my kid are fine. And if I want to watch YouTube shorts for two hours after working 8 to pay every bill we have when you haven’t even worked 5 days all month, then I’m going to. 

And guess where the bitch is sleeping rn… on the couch. He had the foresight to get his food pillow out the bed. But the monitor is supposed to go where now?? Right. 

Like, please dump me. I can’t do it anymore - I’m out of fucks to give about how you feel. 

What I feel called to do to fix it all

Stop:

-videos or thinking of other people in the moment

-binging, purging, or restricting, whatever those words mean in any given moment…

-weed and other illicits (Xanax at a low level, occasional hydroxizine if Xanax is too much/not quite enough, and gaba when very achey are allowed) 

-stealing of any kind 

-spending to cope/wasting money - ie purchases my husband doesn’t know about, especially my DoorDash days and phone games

Start:

-more physical activity

-listening to my body and what it needs 

-praying, meditating, and reading my Bible more 

-being a better mom

-being a better wife

-running my household more responsibly 

Christmas sucks

I’m so depressed I slept until 4pm today. This morning, husband saw I wasn’t doing well. I explained that I’m having a bad fibromyalgia flareup. He was being an asshole, and then brought me flowers home. Then he acted like an ass as he gave them to me. I plunked them in a vase, completely disassociated. He asked me, “What do you even need?” And in my head, the answer was, “To be away from you.” But I know saying that won’t help, so I just walked straight up the stairs to bed and went to sleep. 

I dreamed about my ex husband. I haven’t even thought about him in a long time. In my dream he was drinking. It was clearly about current husband on some level. I woke up and cried. 

Yesterday was the worst Christmas I have ever had. I was not in a good mood. Depression and fibro don’t care what day it is. Husband asked me what was up, and I said, “Christmas is boring with no money and no people.” I was thinking about how everyone in the world has someone else. And when I met my husband, I had people. I had like 4 people I would see every year. I would get gifts. I would give them. He had no one. Now, somehow, he has dragged me into that world, rather than the opposite. And it’s not like the people I had were decent the rest of the days of the year, but those people all have their own people. Meanwhile, I don’t even get a text from my own brother on Christmas. The gift I got my kid is fucked up, and trying to fix it made it worse. So I gave nothing and got nothing. I cried and told my husband, “I work so hard all year, and I don’t even have one gift for any of my own children on Christmas Day. It’s not ok…”

Today I didn’t care if I lived or died. I don’t care about anything. I would rather be gone, except who would truly take care of my child?

I told my husband today that this coming year, I’m going to be working as much as possible, and that he won’t see me. I said, “I need to get us out of debt. And if that means I work all the time, that’s what it means. If I bust my ass it’ll take only a year, and one year of all of our lives of me being busy won’t kill any one of us. We will have Sundays as a family, and I need you to take care of the children and house while I hustle. I’m not going to feel badly about it, because if we have things paid and money to spend, our family days will be more enjoyable anyway.” I saw it click.

I realized today what happens that causes issues. It’s like I’m already at a high level of self-hate. And then his negative, critical words increase it. And nothing comes along to counteract it. Nothing. Nothing that has enough weight to. Small comments from him or friends or clients help, but they can never measure up. So I just feel suicidal all the time. 

Soon we will have to discuss it. 

I want to go to a party filled with people who like me and want me there. I don’t know if I’ll ever experience that again in my life. I’ve cut off so many people because they weren’t really there for me. They were fake, manipulative, selfish… is fake friends better than no friends? 

I hope my new job gives me a social life. I hope I get my new job… 

The gist of this garbage

I'm fucking out of it. I'm sitting here contemplating every self-destructive thing I could possibly do to myself today, and I just want to get in the bathtub with a fucking razor blade and end it all. I am seriously so suicidal, and I don't know how to surface.

I wonder if anyone would feel badly if I did kill myself. I wonder if my parents found out if they would blame themselves, if my brother would say he regrets not spending time with me, if my stepkids would realize the fragility of life, if my husband would wish he listened to everything I ever tried to tell him, if my youngest would even remember me. 

I just feel like the harder I work, the more fucked up things are. I feel like the more I give and push and do, the more negative things keep showing up on my doorstep to disrupt any semblance of anything positive. I feel like I’m fucking failing everything. I need to get out of the pit. I’ve been very deep in here for over 2 months now. But life just keeps kicking me back down. And I can't take it. I'm literally at a point that I can't take anymore. 

All I want to do is sleep, and it's because if I manage a dream, then I get to live another life for a bit. This is how I felt when Anthony dumped me in undergrad. That's one of my tells that I'm really depressed.

I haven't even spoken to my friends in like 2 weeks. I've left so many people on read lately...  Friends and clients. I can see myself doing things to get people to leave me. And I don't care if they all leave my life. People are just pain and work. I just reply and respond and act engaged out of obligation. 

I'm so fucking sick of doing things out of obligation. 

I just did a whole week of obligation... Like, who the fuck shows up and blows up a week of someone's life like that?? I did not have the time or mental energy to deal with him being here. It's a complete mixed bag that left me in the same exact place with all of it - only with less time and money and an emotionally raw husband who is acting horrible. But I posed the statement succinctly - My options are to work this hard for these 4 people who don't treat me like they appreciate it, or just be alone? I don't get the option of doing all this and being made to feel loved?? 

It's really where my life went. In trying so hard not to become my mom, I became my dad. 

I miss my dad. I wish I could see him and get a hug and hear his shaky voice when he clears his throat, because he's trying not to cry and feel his soft loose weathered skin and feel his scruffy textured hair and breathe him in and get a hug. I can't believe he chose my mom over me. I love him and miss him, And I don't understand. How can someone tell you your whole life they love you and then reject you when you don't do what they want? And then refuse to compromise? 

Literally no one really appreciates me. 

I gave up so much to be with my husband, and sometimes I think it was a mistake. I gave up a life with money, friends, drinking, and extended family. Instead I have no security net, poverty, no circle, and no family. And I'm supposed to be happy with that?? Maybe I would be if he fixed any of that for me, but he didn't. If I had stayed with my exes, I would have those things. I would have at least a couple from each one... But here I am in a place where I can't fix it without an overhaul. The foundation is gone. And would it even be better??

I'm so fucking sad that I work as hard as I do, and I can’t even afford health insurance and dental and vision. And in the brief moments we have it, we don’t have the time and additional money to ever use it. I'm so broke I have purchased one single Christmas present for my baby, and it over-drafted my account... It’s so fucking over drafted rn, and things just keep coming out of it. I just keep falling further and further behind, and I can’t fix it. I seriously need like so much money rn just to get back to a level place, that it's probably going to take me all of 2025 to get there. And I'm not even hopeful. I need like a fucking windfall of like 20k... that would put me in maintenance. But instead I'm going to have to work two jobs for an entire year to hope I can get half that knocked out at least. 

I’m ignoring my boss. I might get sued. I just don’t care… And he locked me out of the office and still has my professional profile up. And I need to do things for my new job that I don't have the mental capacity to do rn but don't know when I'll have the time to. 

This holiday season fucking blows. Thanksgiving created a huge relapse, and I'm still trying to fucking recover. I binged and binged and smoked and got so fucking fat just when I had been restricting really well and feeling better. Then I purged so insanely for two days I fucked up my esophagus. I don’t think I’ve ever hurt myself like that with Mia. I've even puked up blood before, but this was different. It hurt fucking bad for two days, and pretty sure if I kept it up, I could have killed myself. Yesterday I didn't eat, and today I don't plan to either. IDK why I had it in my head I could be really good for several weeks and then give myself two bad ones and bounce back. I did not. I cannot. I just relapsed in every real sense of the word very severely for like two weeks. 

I'm a pathetic anorexic. 

I need to yet again stop smoking. Not today, but I think after today I need to. I don't feel deep in it lately, and I know I'm in a good place to stop. Plus lately it isn't even fun. Everything has lost it's joy - smoking, food, sex, everything. All there is is pain. 

I WISH I COULD FUCKING DRINK. But I married a sober man and take pills that ruin it. So, here we are... 

I rescheduled everyone today, and I keep going over this list of how I could spend my day and what it would do to me. The internal sounds like this: I could binge today - except I don't have the money and lately nothing has even tasted good. I could get the money from someone, order things, and eat them. I would then want to purge, but can't because of my esophagus. OR I would have to keep it down, and after not eating yesterday, I don't want to digest today. I would love to see how many days I can go not eating. Plus I'm bloaty af and want to lost a bit before my job starts in a month. So, ordering food is out. I could smoke all day. Except it makes me want to eat. And I need to stop. But maybe I just stop tomorrow... I could self-injure? I could lay in bed all day and sleep? I could take pills? I should really do paperwork, because idk when I'll actually be able to at this point. I could chew off all my nails.

I’m pushing my body in horrible ways. And meeting Andy yesterday and hearing about his wife has me shook. I just feel like "that could be me." I feel like I'm looking at an alternate dimension version of myself - it's all just eerily similar. He's telling me about her death, and I'm sitting there thinking - is that what we end up doing? Us closeted ED girls? We refuse to have kids, endlessly pursue physical fitness, drink and smoke too much to numb it all, puke up or refuse food, and every single detail is hidden from the person who loves us. Except, we all know, they don't love us - you'd have to know us to love us, and you don't. You just love the image of us. 

And I'm not sure if my response to her is awe and jealousy or if she feels like a wake-up call. Like I'm just a few decisions away from being like her - and dead. And I'm jealous she did all these things and had all these things and then at the end, got a quick exit. And yeah, others are left reeling, but she's not. She's just gone and doesn't have to do all this shit I do every day. And the other part of me is like wow, I've been so fucking disordered for so many years, and it's always gone completely unchecked - what if I kill myself accidentally like that? What if I kill my heart before I'm 45? 

I don't think I would care. I would care for my son, but no one else. No one else deserves the care from me. Everyone else is just obligation. And he is a burden. So my life is work, obligation, burden, and the love of a 6 year old who can't tell me he loves me. It's all so unsatisfying and not gratifying, and I just want it all to end so badly. 

I'm so sick of pain. 

Not a human

Like fuuuuuck, I’m so depressed. Idk what to even do... My brain is like “let’s just die, ok??” Like one billion times a day… The mosquito. It’s taken up fucking permanent residence lately. 

I wish I just felt like a fucking little bit better. I can handle depression, but the depth of this fucking one is too much. It’s reminding me of old times. And I don’t need to scan as to why I’m feeling depressed, like it’s a goddam mystery - there is nothing left to figure out, all the realities just suck. Introspection over, still sucks. 

I need to fast forward the next year of my life… I wish I could. But I think I’ve been doing that the past 10, and it’s just made me feel like I missed it all.

I also lost a lot of life to Covid, sadly. I wish that weren’t true.

So. What will I recall about my 30s? Pathetic. Fucking absolutely tragic how they are passing. I’m not done yet, but holy shit the pit that it has been… 

Husband says I hide out in my phone. Yes. Because, when I surface, the crippling anxiety of my real life comes flooding back, and I want to die. And that’s preventing me from having the functional capacity to fix things for myself, to make my life less anxiety-inducing, because that overwhelming wave wall thing that appears feels completely insurmountable. Because in that moment, it is. I would rather die. So, I just close my eyes again and don’t look at it. I do nothing. I hide out. I keep checking to see what happens when I surface intermittently. But I must wait, and then finally a moment does naturally come where, when I surface, I don’t feel SO suicidal. Just less, so I can manage to do a bit more.  

But waiting on the bitch to let go a little is fucking rough lately. Exhausting. 

I can just never get my shit together. 

Depressed

I’ve been cripplingly depressed for days. I don’t know how to snap out of it. I’m doing all the things to help - keeping hygiene under control, dishes and laundry done, but I’m freaking about Bradley and rent and all the money things, and it’s making me totally incapacitated. I’m literally so not functional, and it’s the home stretch where I need to be. 

I need to send my new job things. I need to get myself ready to go, I need to start the processes for all the things. I need to document and evaluate invoices and exit. We’re not on good terms. I can’t imagine we would be… it’s why I’m leaving in the first place 

I just decided no more weed for a while. Ima put it all away in a bit here. Food is a separate problem I can’t tackle without eliminating that. It’s fucking awful. 

I feel so fucking suicidal every moment lately. Idk how to snap out of it. Husband takes it personally. I have to check his demons all the time, and it’s so exhausting. I can’t just be withdrawn and tired and internal. He thinks I’m mad. I’m just trying to cope. 

I might cancel some appointments today. 

Real actual struggle

I'm a fucking huge mess. This shit with money is making me shut down, and I can't afford to do that - it's making it literally worse. I'm in the throws of a horrible depressive episode, and somehow I'm the fucking MORE functional in my house rn. Baby is on a shitty sleep pattern, and husband is having an episode of depression. He started therapy, but like about a month too late - he's deep into some shit now. This morning he just slept straight past his alarm, and I yelled at him. It's Tuesday - take the fucking kid to school. 

Meanwhile, I can't keep my head out of the toilet. And I don't think marijuana and I are actually friends. I think I broke the part of my brain where I can smoke and not eat a ton. I think my eating disorder has ruined a lot of things. I need to get it back under control. Because if it's clearly going to exist no matter what, then I may as well be crazy and thin with it again... 

I know what that takes - no plan, just diving in. Tomorrow needs to be locked in and then that way for weeks. IDK if I can even salvage this one... But a start over can't hurt. 

I wish I wasn't so fucking self-destructive, I just hate myself so much still... I've stopped caring in life what anyone else thinks of me whatsoever, truly. But I really just fucking hate myself. 

And therefore, every part of my life in its entirety. Regardless of objective value.

I'm so fucking sick of being poor, I could just literally kill myself. I am so exhausted by the endlessly perpetuating cycle of every month when the money is far too tight. I'm so drained by the mad rush to deadlines, getting the power turned back on, paying fragments of mountains knowing it's going to be endless, so why rush it? Someone makes a bad business decision with me, that's their own fault. You can't give what you don't have. 

And $30 on junk food so I don't kill myself is all I got at this point. Me and a sad sack of a body that I wish I didn't have to inhabit, my phone with its endless portals of escape, a massive cloud of grief and shame mercilessly strapped to my back, and any insignificant chemical I can add to the mix to make myself feel less suicidal. It's a sad, simple, pathetic existence. 

Who am I to tell anyone anything? I'm not making it. My mental health is shite, I feel like I've made all the wrong decisions in life, I barely function well enough to be considered an adult, and like 4 whole fucking people depend on me for like everything. So I give up sex shamelessly, because that's all I can. I feed them. I spend money I don't have on them.  Just to distract and to mask the hardest that I have it all under control. I will act like we are fine until we are, because it's pointless for all of us to take on the things. The decisions and responsibility and shame - I will carry all of that for you all. I will rarely show anyone what's happening, because they cannot handle it. I am working harder than most, but it's just extremely hard to make it in this world. 

I hate Bradley - for the record.