Whoa. That last post was a doozy. But it was the truth. That’s why I created this blog to bring down the barriers and dive right into the deep funk. I’m closed off enough, so I need to let it out somewhere.
The trip has come and gone. I drove 7 hours in a rented Ford Focus to meet my fiancé. We had fun, saw old friends and places, and enjoyed the unusually nice weather. Then we drove back in under 6 hours and now it’s back to the same old fucking routine.
My neck hurts, my back hurts, I just need more sleep but it can take forever to fall asleep, or just stay asleep. Or sleep solidly.
I came back to work yesterday with no ‘welcome back’ (until I was leaving). It almost feels as if people resent me for having vacation. Certain people.. as if they don’t have vacation to take. They do! Fuckers. I just take my vacation. And mental health days (although I just say I’m sick).
I hate work. Sometimes I think I really like it. And sure – things are going well right now. But I feel like at any moment I could get fired. I’m not doing anything wrong, but always feel like I’m not doing enough. I’m the only girl in my area and the majority of departments I work directly with are men. I can’t help but feel like an outsider because of it. Men create boundaries at work out of fear, and I get it. Perhaps I have to admit I like attention from (certain) men. Always kept the thought in the back of my head – but perhaps I do have Daddy Issues. This is the place to say it, right?
I saw an old friend who is really easy to talk to. She smokes (one of my few friends that do) and we talked about everything from my upcoming wedding to her having her first baby and reality of hormones while preggo & breastfeeding to the ethics of smoking weed and good food. It was a release but also depressing. Having a baby and getting postpartum depression scares the crap out of me. But mainly because I think my fiancé doesn’t understand it.
“If you’re going to sacrifice smoking and drinking while pregame, he needs to sacrifice something as well,” advised my friend.
I’m not sure we can do it. I already can’t stop smoking. Drinking is a little easier but the moment the bottle is in front of me, I’ve already poured my second glass. But he is the one who often brings it home.
We need counseling. Another story for another day. This is also my mental health countdown until our wedding, just under one year from now.
My days have been tough lately. I’m not sure why but I have been through this before. The funny thing is about my depression, is while I thought about suicide in middle school, I don’t think about it much now (more just wish to be left alone). And my hygiene is excellent. Although I really quite despise the process. I wish I could snap my fingers and be ready. Not have to wake up an hour earlier to get ready.
But for me, hygiene is how I cope.
Otherwise I would not be my best self. I wouldn’t have the energy to accomplish things. That’s mistake number one. But just because I have good hygiene doesn’t mean I’m not depressed. If you can lay in bed all day and say fuck it, then someone is paying your bills and doing all the work.
I’m unhappy partly because I’m not happy with my day job. It affects every aspect of my wellbeing. But I’m also unhappy because of my relationships. I don’t always know how to take care of them, and sometimes end up abandoning them.
Hi-ho hi-ho it’s off to fucking work I go.