I got that bitterness...
Posted: January 22nd, 2015, 6:10 am
I'm having a bad day. It's worse than the bad day I had yesterday and the one before that. These stretches are getting longer together. I've gone back to therapy and usually the good days string together, but not this time. I've got an undercurrent of bitterness and anger. I don't know how to let these negative feelings out in a healthy way. I'm so afraid that I'll snap at someone or fly into a rage that can't be wrestled into submission.
I'm just going to bitch here. It's going to be selfish and mean and as full of venom as I can squeeze out. I'll do it here so that I don't hurt someone for real. Because I'm tired of laying on these emotional grenades and absorbing the blow so my family doesn't suffer the brunt of what I really feel. I'm tired of swallowing my emotions with a side of junk food so that I can quell the anxiety for another hour. I'm tired of running away from my real emotions and placating them with stupid web sites and pictures on the internet.
1. My wife doesn't understand what depression does to me. Oh, she says that she understands but when she says things like, "There are so many problems in the world that are bigger than yours. How can you be depressed when there is actual suffering out there? I'm tired of going through this shit just because you're bored." You know what I've never said to her face, but wanted to? "Fuck you." Fuck you, you fucking fuck. How dare you belittle what I'm going through? Where do you get off telling me that my pain isn't valid? You don't think I don't know about the 'real' suffering of the world? I know it. I read it. I research it and I see it on the faces of those people. I'm in touch with it. I'm too much in touch with it. But you don't think I want to not be depressed anymore?" Depression, to me, is like being in a team sport where you're the only one on that team that wants to win. The coaches don't want to win, the teammates don't want you to win, even the mascot tells you to get fucked. But the fans are still rooting for you and don't understand what's really going on.
2. My wife doesn't have the patience for my depression either. Then again, she doesn't have patience for anything else. Right now I feel her college classes are more important to her and my being sick is just an inconvenience. Pardon me, but when is there a good time for me to lose my shit around you? It doesn't help that I'm starting to realize that I'm codependent. Jesus, white-diapered Christ on a stick. The very person I want approval from doesn't want to be around me. I know that's a problem. I know that the person I want to be around and smother is trying to be at arm's-length. Maybe too much though. I don't know. I'm too fucked in the head to know what is healthy and what isn't. I don't know what is real and what is coming from my insecurities.
3. However, I don't think she likes me very much. How do I know this? She'd rather hang out in the cold ass garage and play on her computer and smoke weed than be in the same room as me. Or she's got no problem going to her dealer wearing a god damn bath robe in the middle of the night that just be around me. Am I that insufferable? Or would you rather just numb yourself with weed than have to have a real emotion? Fuck you, fuck your weed habit. I hate that weed. I hate it because she loves it more than me. I hate it because it's a bigger priority than me or my son. Honestly I'd be ok if she smoked it once in a while to relax, but from the time she gets it she's just smoking to get rid of it. It's beyond a habit now. I don't think she can stand facing real life unless she's stoned. I've never said this out loud before. But fuck it...she's a fucking addict.
4. I don't want to place the blame all at her feet, but I said I'm going to be selfish, so if you're judging me, you can go outside and play hide and go fuck yourself. I used to be fun. Fuck that. I used to be awesome. I was easy going and really funny. Shit, I was a stand up comedian for awhile. That was my dream. I was chasing my dream and making it happen. Then somewhere along the way I stopped. I think she ruined me. I think she fucking ruined me. By being constantly critical and through her own depression and self-loathing she poisoned the well on me. And then I turned around and helped her go back to college and chase her dream. Now she's getting what she wants and I'm sitting here with a basket of rotten dreams. Oh I'm so bitter over this.
5. Son, I turn my attention to you. You're 12 years old. I think it's time to stop shitting your pants. And don't give me that bullshit excuse of 'you're not wiping good enough'. You were too into your video games to press 'pause' and go to the bathroom. What the fuck? We've talked about this and talked about this. I didn't hit you. I didn't fucking yell. I tried to treat you like a person and you REFUSE to fix this. You know what? You're a lazy asshole and part of me hopes the other kids at school smell you and make fun of you. Actually I really don't think that. Getting bullied at school is something I went through and I don't wish that helpless feeling on anyone. But I do wish you'd keep your ass clean.
6. To my cat who just loves to piss on my bathroom floor. You just had to wait until after I got on my hands and knees and scrubbed the almighty shit out of the floor. How fucking thoughtful. You know, you keep meowing at the door to be let out. I'm gonna let you out, and I hope the other neighborhood cats gang up on you, hold you down, and piss on you. I hope every one of them teabags you with their ballsacks full of real testicles, not like that empty one you carry around because we got you fixed. You're soft and those cats are going to prove it to you. You little bastard.
That's it. I'm fucking spent. And I don't feel better after this. I just don't. My frustrations are still here. I've got a therapy appointment tonight. Part of me wants to be angry going into it. Some days I'm just tired of doing the right thing and trying to do the work to make myself better when I know I'm just surrounded by triggers. I feel like I'm one step away from being set off and making an ass of myself.
On days like this it feels like I've got either a really big crying spell or a giant scream just swimming around waiting to breach the surface...threatening me with an outburst in a public setting. I'm just so tired of keeping it together while everyone else gets to indulge in their bullshit, consequence free. Why do they get to and I'm the one who has to keep it together?
I'm just going to bitch here. It's going to be selfish and mean and as full of venom as I can squeeze out. I'll do it here so that I don't hurt someone for real. Because I'm tired of laying on these emotional grenades and absorbing the blow so my family doesn't suffer the brunt of what I really feel. I'm tired of swallowing my emotions with a side of junk food so that I can quell the anxiety for another hour. I'm tired of running away from my real emotions and placating them with stupid web sites and pictures on the internet.
1. My wife doesn't understand what depression does to me. Oh, she says that she understands but when she says things like, "There are so many problems in the world that are bigger than yours. How can you be depressed when there is actual suffering out there? I'm tired of going through this shit just because you're bored." You know what I've never said to her face, but wanted to? "Fuck you." Fuck you, you fucking fuck. How dare you belittle what I'm going through? Where do you get off telling me that my pain isn't valid? You don't think I don't know about the 'real' suffering of the world? I know it. I read it. I research it and I see it on the faces of those people. I'm in touch with it. I'm too much in touch with it. But you don't think I want to not be depressed anymore?" Depression, to me, is like being in a team sport where you're the only one on that team that wants to win. The coaches don't want to win, the teammates don't want you to win, even the mascot tells you to get fucked. But the fans are still rooting for you and don't understand what's really going on.
2. My wife doesn't have the patience for my depression either. Then again, she doesn't have patience for anything else. Right now I feel her college classes are more important to her and my being sick is just an inconvenience. Pardon me, but when is there a good time for me to lose my shit around you? It doesn't help that I'm starting to realize that I'm codependent. Jesus, white-diapered Christ on a stick. The very person I want approval from doesn't want to be around me. I know that's a problem. I know that the person I want to be around and smother is trying to be at arm's-length. Maybe too much though. I don't know. I'm too fucked in the head to know what is healthy and what isn't. I don't know what is real and what is coming from my insecurities.
3. However, I don't think she likes me very much. How do I know this? She'd rather hang out in the cold ass garage and play on her computer and smoke weed than be in the same room as me. Or she's got no problem going to her dealer wearing a god damn bath robe in the middle of the night that just be around me. Am I that insufferable? Or would you rather just numb yourself with weed than have to have a real emotion? Fuck you, fuck your weed habit. I hate that weed. I hate it because she loves it more than me. I hate it because it's a bigger priority than me or my son. Honestly I'd be ok if she smoked it once in a while to relax, but from the time she gets it she's just smoking to get rid of it. It's beyond a habit now. I don't think she can stand facing real life unless she's stoned. I've never said this out loud before. But fuck it...she's a fucking addict.
4. I don't want to place the blame all at her feet, but I said I'm going to be selfish, so if you're judging me, you can go outside and play hide and go fuck yourself. I used to be fun. Fuck that. I used to be awesome. I was easy going and really funny. Shit, I was a stand up comedian for awhile. That was my dream. I was chasing my dream and making it happen. Then somewhere along the way I stopped. I think she ruined me. I think she fucking ruined me. By being constantly critical and through her own depression and self-loathing she poisoned the well on me. And then I turned around and helped her go back to college and chase her dream. Now she's getting what she wants and I'm sitting here with a basket of rotten dreams. Oh I'm so bitter over this.
5. Son, I turn my attention to you. You're 12 years old. I think it's time to stop shitting your pants. And don't give me that bullshit excuse of 'you're not wiping good enough'. You were too into your video games to press 'pause' and go to the bathroom. What the fuck? We've talked about this and talked about this. I didn't hit you. I didn't fucking yell. I tried to treat you like a person and you REFUSE to fix this. You know what? You're a lazy asshole and part of me hopes the other kids at school smell you and make fun of you. Actually I really don't think that. Getting bullied at school is something I went through and I don't wish that helpless feeling on anyone. But I do wish you'd keep your ass clean.
6. To my cat who just loves to piss on my bathroom floor. You just had to wait until after I got on my hands and knees and scrubbed the almighty shit out of the floor. How fucking thoughtful. You know, you keep meowing at the door to be let out. I'm gonna let you out, and I hope the other neighborhood cats gang up on you, hold you down, and piss on you. I hope every one of them teabags you with their ballsacks full of real testicles, not like that empty one you carry around because we got you fixed. You're soft and those cats are going to prove it to you. You little bastard.
That's it. I'm fucking spent. And I don't feel better after this. I just don't. My frustrations are still here. I've got a therapy appointment tonight. Part of me wants to be angry going into it. Some days I'm just tired of doing the right thing and trying to do the work to make myself better when I know I'm just surrounded by triggers. I feel like I'm one step away from being set off and making an ass of myself.
On days like this it feels like I've got either a really big crying spell or a giant scream just swimming around waiting to breach the surface...threatening me with an outburst in a public setting. I'm just so tired of keeping it together while everyone else gets to indulge in their bullshit, consequence free. Why do they get to and I'm the one who has to keep it together?