They Can't All Be Winners

The number of times I say "why isn't this easier" should by now have learned me. It just isn't easy, okay? And I have got to quit whining about it. Other people are undergoing their own trials and tribulations and we have all got our crosses to bear. Today's wake-up this morning wasn't good, and by that I mean the anxiety set in immediately; my feel-good mantra's weren't working. So despite the beautiful weather and the calmness of the day all I did was lay in a porch chair dosed on Klonopin and feel sorry for myself. Today was not my proudest. I did all my "stuff," my routine. Exercise bike, walk. Though I couldn't face the sinkful of dishes. Just could not deal. Joey cleaned the kitchen because he's a rock star. I'm babbling because I'm out of sorts and I need a day to reassemble myself. Sorry guys, they can't all be winners.

What is rattling around in my mind, like a rat in a coffee can, is a thing I have to deal with; in therapy the other day I mentioned that I found a parallel between how I felt at home as a child and how I felt at work. Dismissed, ignored, unappreciated. That maybe the reason I was able to hang on and work in such a toxic environment for so many years (nine!) is that I had experience with the feelings and was able to function whilst having them. So when I lost my job, all these feelings came bubbling to the surface after being repressed all this time, and I wigged out.

Sorting all this out is going to take a long time. For one thing, the anxiety that it causes just thinking about it makes me quake. My therapist says I'm strong, and more than than, stronger than I think. How does she figure that? I spent today curled up in a fetal position on a porch chair. I don't feel strong today. I feel like I want to cry today.

I hate it when I have bad days on weekends, for Joe's sake. The poor guy can't catch a break.