weary

Today is one of those days. You know the kind. The kind where no matter what people say, look, do cheering up is just not happening. Short of someone telling me, I won the lottery. My total take home amount after taxes is 1 billion dollars, yeah, cheering up is not in the cards. I am not sure how many others are out there who have these days. These days you feel trapped. Since my divorce, I have no car, and no official income. I live with my retired parents and unemployed brother.(I am not sure why he doesn't even try to get a job but I am sure something is wrong with his spirit. He has mental issues of his own too. So, I try to cut him some slack.) I've been applying for menial jobs just to have some stream of income, with absolutely no success. Sure, I am halfway through a data analytics course. I have been working on this for 3 months. However, that brings in no income. On days like this I feel like I have climbed halfway up the depression hole, only to discover I am still at the bottom. All of the climbing you did yesterday was around the hole, not upwards. Also, by the way, the hole gets deeper every day. On days like this, my 100 square foot room feels like a glorified prison. I know I need to cry. I know I feel like this because I am exhausted and weary of the daily wear and tear life puts on us but there is no way to activate the catharsis because I officially have no one who "gets it". I have no one who gets me. I just want someone to give me a call, tell me, "Let's go have some fun. Don't worry I will pay." I want to get you out of the house. I want to get you away from the oppressive life you live with older Christian puritanical judgmental parents and family on watch, an annoying brother who will not get off the couch and bleeding clipped wings that long to escape this mind and body. Yeah, it's one of those days you have to wait it out.

#Depression #depressed #lonely #hopeless #MentalHealth #exhausted #weary #stuck #prison #catharsis #Isolation #Judgement #Escape #Needabreak #Fun #betterdays #Divorced #single #unemployed #noincome #livingwithparents #careerchange #financialstress#waitingforbetterdays

#anxious #sad #weary #failure
#CheckInWithMe

When did my bipolar start? I was diagnosed around 9. A child survivor of physical and emotional abuse, trauma, hopelessness, and starvation. Although my sister and I went to our new home when I was 6, my first suicidal thoughts started at age 9.

My father abandoned me at 2 and then was in and out of my life. When I joined a church at 20 (which I later found out was a cult) our fights were epic. My mother is bipolar and therefore in and out. She abandoned us to be victims of her boyfriends. I took my sisters blows. I felt bad for her until her moods and behavior could affect my son. Then I said no way. She needed to get on meds and take responsibility for her life b4 anything else.

At 23 I got cancer. I thought I was God's holy vessel. To use my illness to spread His gospel to the sick and weary. This is what the church led me to believe. And I did until I ended up In the ICU with C-diff. Then I broke.

After this l got addicted to pain killers after 9 months Inpatient on morphine and then needed back surgery. A year later I was pregnant. 3 years later was the first time I got raped. A year after, after 10 years at my church, I realized it was a legalistic cult and left and lost 10 years of friendships.

All of this leads me to say that I AM NOT SUICIDAL. However I do wish there was a way to leave. A terminal illness. Terrible accident. I know it makes me a coward. A horrible person. It's hard To write the words. To confess one of my darkest dreams. But now you know the truth 🥺🤫😳😮 dont hate me.☹

I try to get comfortable.. yet it seems there are no wounded 🐑 to count...
the more I toss and turn...the more I ache..... #Sleepy #weary #achey