I don’t give a fudge! # depression#tired #takingcare #Care #worthy #stop #bed #choosing
Since two or three days, I don’t feel so good. Is it my fibromyalgia, my BPD or simply the fact that my children chose to be estranged to their father and me?
I can’t say for sure but I decided to go on strike and say to the rest of the world: “fudge you, you are nothing to me!” Which of course is not true as my heart is full of hurt from the loss of my parents when I was young and the “loss” of my children by their choice of life.
So strike it is, with my husband of 23 years, who knows me very well, taking care of my physical needs and emotional ones, as much as he can.
I decided to stay in bed. Not to lay and cry although I gave myself permission too, but to lick my wounds, take care of myself with lot of sleep, reading, funny movies, tele series, animal documentaries, biographies, light food ( junk food does not appeal to me)and coffee.
It’s been 3 days now and I am recovering from that dark hole that was trying to swallow me.
I kept contact with my sisters and best friends but did not talk about what I was going through: they heard me retell the same ole story over and over. I try to give them a break and also be there for them. And I am a good friend. One good point for me!
Oh! And I was not alone: beside God who is always with me, He made sure that my dog and at least one of my cats staying with me in bed, close to me. So I am in good company.
I don’t know how much longer I’ll be here and it doesn’t matter: I’m getting better by doing what I’m doing right now.
Will it work if it happens in the future again? I don’t know as I live a day at a time.
Why? I can’t do nothing about the past but learn from it and I have no power over the future neither. All I can do is CARPE DIEM.
DORA