depression and frustration

Woke up wanting to cry… that spot I was hoping to avoid is exactly where it feels like I’m headed. I’m resisting the desire to call out of work for today. I’m torn between thinking it would be good distraction, and fearing I will be too mired in my own shit to be competent at the job. Maybe if I we’re just in the back with the dogs, it wouldn’t matter, but I’m up front running the customer service today. It’s lonely up there, and there’s too much opportunity to think and feel…

I want to cut. I want to escape this overwhelmingly uncomfortable feeling of worthlessness and hopelessness. Calling out today would put another notch in the “worthless & hopeless” column, but so would going in and fucking up with the customers… I feel like I can’t win.

The house is a mess. No matter how much I try to organize and clean, the entropy of the mess dictates that it will remain. A surface gets emptied only to be re-cluttered later on the day. I put things away so they are not talking up the little space we have, then they are too out-of-reach for L. I can’t win… I don’t want to keep doing this anymore. I’m so tired of trying, only to have it return to its original state…

I just want to sleep (and maybe cry more).

This wasn’t a good time to stir up all this. It was threatening to break, but I kinda had it under wraps. It might have held out till next week or the week after. I might have made it through the end of December without falling apart. Fuck… I Fuck up everything I try. *This* is why I’m scared of trying a real career again. I can’t hang on for more than 6 months without a breakdown…

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