Well. I started this blog in an attempt to document my mental health struggle. Its been a lot of work talk, something I didn’t intend on, but the truth is that as a poor adult, I spend a lot of time at work. I mean, a lot. So work has a huge impact on my mood, on my mental health as a whole.
Last week grooming was a nightmare. I was way overbooked every single day. I was truly ready to lay down on train tracks and end everything. It was not pretty. All the husband had to say was to “tough it out” and that he doesn’t understand why I feel the way I do about my job. I’m working for my mother in law on my only two days off. While I enjoy working for her, I am tired. I just need some days to myself to sleep. I don’t think I’ll get that luxury for a while, though. It’s killing me.
I’m on Cymbalta now for the depression. I feel… not suicidal. I wouldn’t classify myself as happy, or anywhere close. But not as bad. I’ve been reflecting on that and on my job situation, on everything really, and I find myself wondering, “What if this is as good as it gets?” That scares me. This is not something I want indefinitely. This feeling isn’t… good. We will have to see.
I wish I had better news. I wish I could say I could sleep a full comfortable night without needing my anxiety medication for a full blown attack (something that only happened at the con). I wish I had the answers as to what I want career wise instead of chasing surviving. I wish… a lot, really.