GO FUCK YOURSELF.
I’m tired of this. TIRED. Capital everything tired. I’ve spent today so fucking agitated I couldn’t sit still, couldn’t focus, my brain full of static and goo, heavy and wilted, after spending last night away and hearing music no one ever wrote in my ears before falling into a drugged stupor.
I’m really tired of you and my period doing this little dance of satan to ruin a perfectly good month. I’m completely sick of feeling at your mercy, at wondering when you’ll take over completely and knock me from the drivers seat.
I wonder when my daughters will know for sure that something is wrong with me.
I want a fucking normal life, normal relationships with people, normal dreams. Lately I’ve imagined just selling everything, and moving my family to some beach in Mexico or Bali, to just live without things, and it’s incredible-to dream! To have a thought not full of angst or foulness. But this is threatened and I can’t stop it and fighting is wearing me down, the headaches piling on each other until I cannot see and I fantasize about being laid off so I could just piss around the house for a little while.
I’m tired of being weak, of having to make excuses, or having to apologize, of having to point at my head and shrug. I’m sick of apologizing for the chemistry inside I can’t do a thing about! I’m tired of hurting people because of that chemistry.
I’m sick to death of not being able to get to my doctor, and weighing the options of going to emerg. I’m tired of that feeling that my world will crumble around me, any second, that it’s held up by the thinnest of threads and then every single thing I’ve worked for will be gone.
It would be my fucking luck.
I want to have normal problems, normal concerns. I want to have anything but this.