Intimate death

I will always remember her hunched in the chair, unable to hold her own head up. Asking for help to position herself in s comfortable position. Her face bloated and tired from all the medicine and steroids. I will never be able to get the dying image out of my head. 
I never wanted to see her at her worse, I never wanted to remember her weak and helpless. 

I never wanted to see her that way. Now I have one image that will tarnish the last few memories I have with her. 

I don’t want to get a phone call saying that her light is gone. I do t want to accept that is the future I have to face. I can’t cope with the emotions I have to deal with. I can’t be stronge when inside I’m falling apart. I don’t want to remember.

Oh GAD

Things are bad again.

My anxiety has peaked and I can’t control it. It’s worse with jack, I’m always in a constant state of worry. My counsellor thinks I have generalised anxiety disorder, which I guess would explain a lot. She wants to help me get my emotions under control and fight through the worry. I know it won’t be easy but if it will help jack I’m willing to do anything for him.

Neglected

It’s been a while hasn’t it. I haven’t wrote in s long time and my life is going more down hill. I’ve been neglecting myself and my writing. It was the one thing that helped calm me down.

I guess I got overrun with everything I couldn’t figure out to channel it into writing. So I stayed silent and let it all build up on top of me. 

I guess there’s a few things I need to get off my chest, otherwise I would be sat outside writing now.

Anxeity Rebirthed

Spring is about rebirth. All I think about is how instead of celebrating I’m sinking again. I don’t want this weekend to happen. 

I’m anxious. I haven’t yet gotten over my last anxiety attack. It’s all happening to soon and I can’t keep up with everything and what I’m suppose to do or how I’m suppose to react. 

 I feel sick.

I feel sad.

I feel threatened. 

I want to live in my little bubble and stay there, stay there until I’m better. 

I did it again.

Just because I’m smiling doesn’t mean I’m not affected by what is going on. Inside I am hurting and I do want to scream and cry and lash out but I don’t. I do want to talk about it and let everything out but something has changed and I don’t feel like I can. I don’t feel like I can write about it.

It has got to me and I don’t know how I can show this or explain this. I feel almost like I’ve shut a little of myself off to ignore what is really going on. 

I don’t want to accept what is happening and I don’t want to see it face to face. I want to remember all the times and focus on those memories.

My heart hurts right now.

Progress? 

So it’s been a while and I’m not really sure how things have been…

I had my first counselling session, I only cried once which I guess was good. I plan on going back to the next session, again I guess that’s good. Hopefully it will work out for me, speaking to someone and getting stuff off my chest in a pro active way.

Things are more right now, there’s an effort that wasn’t there before. I don’t know how long it will last but right now it makes me a little hopeful things might magically get better. 

Things are hard right now…I think expectations got in the way and our own thoughts and opinion seemed to change things and hope for other things. If that makes sense.

I still feel confused. I feel tired and worried about little things. It’s not magically gone away in the time I haven’t wrote. I’m hoping my new anti depressants are starting to have an impact and help me out a little bit. 

Breathing has become easier, I can breathe a little more right now.

To be appreciated 

Today is the one day where as a mother you want to feel appreciated. For everything you’ve been doing, all the stress and emotions that you go through, you just want to feel like your doing a good job. 

It has been hard, it’s been sad, it’s been a dream come true. And yet at times I still don’t feel as though I’m good enough.

I am broken and sad but I always want to give my best at being a mum. Some days are much harder then others but you still try. Some days you want to break down crying but you don’t, you still try. Every day I put all the love I have into loving him, leaving now for myself.

And today, the one day you hope you get some love in return, you don’t. You unappreciated and unworthy. 

So Happy Mother’s Day to me and to every single mother that feels unappreciated. You doing a fantastic job.

Eyes wide shut

I’m tired, all the time. I feel as though I’m barely awake to concerntrate on the world around me, and it scares me. I need to be better. I need to be awake. I need to be there and be prefect for him. 

I can feel my eyes closing and it makes me hate myself for being tired when all he wants is attention. 

I can’t be tired around him. I need to be more for him. He deserves so much more. 

Being tired makes me feel careless and undeserving. I’m scared that the sleep will when.

I don’t want to feel tired all the time. I don’t want to feel like Sleep can’t come soon enough. I want to him him my individed attention but I can’t, not when I’m using g every ounce of energy to stay awake.

Being smothered

I feel as though I’m having more downs days then good. I’m tired, so so tired. I think I’ve used all my energy up this week pretending that I’m ok and trying to be happy when I’m not. I feel like I’m being smothered.

The art of overthinking

I can’t help but read to much into situations, it’s something I have always done and I guess now it has been made worse by the situation I am in.

It’s something that runs through my mind over and over again trying to figure out every possible theory behind what has happeneD, or what has been said.

Why was that said? What did that gesture mean? Why send that song? Why was that picture taken? 

I can’t ask what I want to ask so instead I let it get trapped in my head until it’s consumed me. It’s not healthy and it’s not logical but yet I can’t help but over think things and situations. 

What might seem something innocent and natural to most people is a paradox to me. I’m to nervous to ask about it so instea I let it fill me up inside.