v u l v a l i c i o u s
turning into my mother
It's not my biggest fear, but I worry about ending up like my mother. Always sick, usually too scared to make a choice that isn't a sure thing.
And now that I'm Officially Depressed it's all rolling toward me with shocking speed and efficiency. In short, I am terrified of it, and I can't move out of the way. I'm fatigued: sleeping for hours and hours and waking up exhausted and unable to move. I remember going into her room and waking her up when it was dark. She'd been up once or twice, shuffled into the kitchen for cereal, gone back to her room.
That's me now.
I still go to work, but at the end of the day it feels like I've run a marathon. Don't ask me to cook, too.
Sometimes I have to go lie down for an hour before I can even think about dinner.
Unfortunately this hasn't made it easier for me to actually fall asleep. No, I still get to struggle with insomnia, eyes open in the dark for an hour or more if I don't wear myself down first.
And once I'm asleep my dreams are sticky and strange and plotty, all my anxieties working themselves out at night: I am at work, but everything is different and nobody will tell me how things are done; I am traveling the world, seeing strange places that are far away--it takes forever to get there, and we never stay long; I am in frustrated sexual situations that end in bizarre ways that are often mildly embarrassing.
I've finally gotten some therapists to call me back and they all want more money than I can pay them, especially considering that this new way of being depressed has made me stay home from work once already, in addition to already being short of hours. In other words it's been months since I've had a normal paycheck.
Everything is so hard. Everything. I just want it to stop.