No light; but rather darkness visible
Served only to discover sights of woe,
Regions of sorrow, doleful shades, where peace
And rest can never dwell, hope never comes
That comes to all, but torture without end
Still urges, and a fiery deluge, fed
With ever-burning sulphur unconsumed.
Archive for the 'Anxiety' Category
Page 3 of 13
The very first thing I do when there’s a new relationship is think to myself: how can I get out of this? Where is my exit?
I need to feel in control by serving. That sounds so strange but really, if I provide everything….food, comfort, clean clothing, a clean house, affection, etc, etc am I not in control? It’s also a set up because when things go south trust me, you’ll hear about how I did everything and got treated like shit. I cooked, cleaned, kept that house running and still got treated like shit. It’s a set up. I’m telling you, I’m not the person to go out with. I go in looking for a way out and I go in setting you up to fail!
At this time I’m not capable of truly loving you but I am capable of being co-dependent.
After writing my last entry and quoting my mother as saying, “Would Mommy approve?” I got a bit irritated (?) so I ended up working off that emotion by writing.
My mother refused to allow us to call her anything but mommy or by her nickname given to her by my father. As an older teen I hated calling her mommy. As I type the word my nose is turned up like it’s the most disgusting word in the world. It feels as if she kept me “little” by using that word. Oh man I can’t explain how disgusted I am by that word. It’s just that she forced it. We had to call her that and she would tell people we called her that. My girls are such and such of age and still call me mommy. Of course we did, it was a requirement. It was a requirement the same as saying Yes Ma’am and No Ma’am. I have no objection to using those terms of respect. As a matter of fact I still say them, it’s just that hearing myself say it to her makes me sick.
Lets say a race car is built, the number 24 is painted on the side. There will be lettering that says DuPont and Hendricks Motorsports. Instead of Jeff Gordon climbing behind the wheel, the crew chief turns and hands the keys to me. That’s what it feels like just happened. I feel like I’ve been put in the drivers seat with no clue how to drive safely at this pace.
I wasn’t feeling all that calm or collected at the time of these particular drawings which were done with an ink pen or black gel pen.
When I first moved here I thought to myself, my goodness, I’ve gone from the pan into the fire. For a minute that might have been true but its far from true now. For just a moment it was rough.
At first I decided not to do any more end of life foster care for animals or feed newborns. I figured it might be okay to babysit from time to time but I’ll limit that as well. I briefly did foster care for a 15 year old male tabby. His photo is among the sketches. Seeing that boy roll around in catnip was priceless!!! Ever seen an old cat drop about 14.5 years in a few minutes? Yeah, that was pretty awesome.
Some of my issues are the same, which I expected. I expected anxiety and stuff like that but I never expected to end up at my going to my mother’s house. That blew me away.
Anxiety is no laughing matter…not usually.
Grace: I’m going to the doctor because of the anxiety. Hopefully he’ll prescribe some meds.
Me: That’s a good idea to go see the doctor but I heard going on a killing spree works just as well as any anxiety medication.
Grace: I heard the same thing.
The entire conversation she thought I was Joan.
Me: “I’ll show you the brackish water tank when I you see you next time.”
Missy: “I saw it the last time I was there.”
Me: “The brackish tank, with the Molly fish in it?”
Missy: “Yeah, you showed it to me.”
Me: “Oh”
Missy: “You need to write down when you’ve been out because someone was upset and said you hadn’t been here since November.”
Silence was followed by, “This isn’t Joan, its Destiny.”
Missy: “Oh. Sometimes I can tell you apart but sometimes I can’t.”
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