I’m not saying that I *want* to die. And I’m not saying that I’m going to take any steps to die. But I am saying that today is one of those days where I’m at a point on the spectrum where I think, “You know, if I were to die, it would just make everything so much easier.”
My husband thinks I should up my medication.
I don’t want to, and I’m not sure if I need to. I am still hopeful that this is a temporary state, and the fact that I feel any hope tells me (I think) that I don’t need more medication.
But maybe I’m wrong.
Either way, it’s the perfect example of how, even when I try to stay positive, my brain lies to me and tries to make me convinced that life is shit.
I began by just feeling like crap – cramps and a headache. Never helps.
Then I went up to Houston to try to buy some metal I needed to use for a class I’m taking. The shop didn’t have any of the metal I needed. None. And I hadn’t ordered it online because the shop online confused me and I couldn’t find the right size of metal. Class is tomorrow morning. I won’t have my metal. I won’t be prepared. And I’ve missed three weeks of class due to travel and being sick. Not cool. Clearly, I am going to fail all my classes, I suck, and my teacher will hate me and think I’m completely unprofessional and unprepared.
Did some secret shops. Worried that I won’t get paid because I didn’t get business cards from two of the shops (even though it wasn’t required at one, and I couldn’t at the other).
Worried about my dog because she had fleas. While they seem to be gone, she’s still itching. Clearly, that’s my fault. I’m a horrible dog mom.
Worried about my son because, well, I’m a mom, and what mom doesn’t worry about her kid?
Got upset because I took a nap because of my cramps and my headache. Because of that, I got work done late (or not done at all). Again, failure!
And I didn’t stick to my 1400 calorie goal or exercise today. More failure!
Then, after spending a while and working really hard on a prompt book for NaNo, I discovered that I got a one-star review from someone who didn’t seem to get the point. They felt that it didn’t help someone write a novel. (It wasn’t supposed to – it was supposed to help you succeed at NaNo…kind of different stuff…)
And now…now I’m sitting around feeling all disgruntled because I felt like I had to argue and like I didn’t want to talk about being upset even though I want to complain about how I feel because I would really like to feel better. But I’m not sure how.
And that, my fun and friendly audience, is why I felt like today was a good day to think about dying.
But I’m not dead yet.