For the last couple of months I have been flitting through emotions like a crazy person.
I can’t tell you how many times I have reacted (or passive aggressively NOT reacted) to a situation and then sat down afterwards and asked myself if this is what going crazy feels like.
I’ll go days where I’m totally fine and then suddenly for a couple of days I will want to crawl into a ball and never emerge. I’ll shout at the kids when they don’t deserve it. I’ll not discipline them when I should because I actually couldn’t care at that point. I’ll cry upon waking up and seeing that instead of being home with me, my husband is climbing up a mountain with his friends. I don’t want to climb the mountain, but I can’t be happy for him climbing the stupid mountain. What the hell is wrong with me?
There is absolutely no reason to be feeling like I do. None at all. If I had to list everything that is going really well in my life, the list would be endless. So what the actual heck? Is this what being depressed feels like? And why the hell am I depressed?
It got me thinking back to when last I was feeling like this and it hit me as I stared at myself in the mirror.
My red, patchy, pimply face stared back at me and I realised that I am back to feeling ugly, unworthy of affection and just plain awful about myself. Back to hiding my face in pictures, back to thinking that my husband can’t possibly want a woman so messed up, back to teaching my kids that they have to hide their faces under layers of make up to be happy.
Obviously since going on Roaccutane it is vastly better than it was before, but it’s coming back with a vengeance. I’m so beyond being over it, it’s not even funny.
Unfortunately there’s no happy ending to conclude this post with. I don’t feel like trying to paint this whole thing with a rainbow glitter brush and force a learning moment or a positive twist, there isn’t one.
All there is, is a person in need of a new solution before she goes legit crazy.