Kerry-White

Another friend announced her pregnancy today. I knew already because I’m sort of good at figuring out what people really mean when they give me cryptic responses. This is their 2nd baby. Their first was due when mine was due – so we were pregnant together.

I feel like life is passing me by. I’m raising this brillliant and gorgeous little boy largely on my own – but in other aspects of my life I am completely and utterly stagnating. This is why it is so important to use to move out of here and to another place where we will be around others who may be more supportive and helpful.

All in good time, I suppose.

I just need to stop listening to the depression that is telling me I am a complete and utter failure. I’ve failed in all of my relationships. I wasn’t able to hold onto my job. I lost my home. I am sure I’m failing in some aspects of being a mom to my incredibly smart kiddo. And I will never lose weight because I let other people’s desires to eat shit food influence me.

Depression is a bitch.

And fuck other people!!! I’m only responsible for feeding myself and my son. Oh, and my dog and cats. Everyone else who is over the age of 18 is perfectly capable of making toast, baking fish, cracking a fucking egg – and taking care of their own lazy asses!!!

I need to get out of here.

I’m not exactly inspired to find another partner but it would sometimes be nice. I just don’t want to have to deal with the shit that comes along with having a partner – and with having to take care of someone else. I have enough to do and more than enough in the way of demands on my time. Oh. And I don’t want to have my heart broken again. The last asshole did a number on my heart and my ability to trust and I can’t let that happen again. I know that walking out on your unborn child is one of those unforgivable sins but sometimes people also forget that he walked out on me – the person who loved him and needed him.

Shit, you’d think that after 4 years I’d be able to better handle this. See what I mean about stagnating?! It has never taken me this long to move my emotions on. This isn’t healthy for me. It isn’t healthy for my son, either.

What am I going to do when he starts to ask seriously about his father? There is not one single human on this planet I deem suitable for being his father or even a father figure. But what do I say? *sigh*

Back to work… bills to pay, savings account to plump up for our move this year.

A dear friend expanded her family today. I burst into tears when I saw the picture of the baby boy. I’m an old sentimental fool.
I’m deliriously happy for her. She went through 2 years of infertility madness to get her first precious son, and then another 4 years of infertility madness and a few losses to get her second precious son.
I’m sad for me.

I feel like everything I love has been slowly stripped away from me. I am clinging to my child like mad. He is all that I have left, truly.

I am going to lose my dog within the next few months. I know I am and there is nothing I can do about it. There is nothing that I can do to make him healthy again.

Panic attacks are still lingering. Depression isn’t much better. I’m just so angry and short-tempered all of the time. I’m tired.

Changing our living situation will help my son & I. I am just saving furiously to try and meet that goal. If all goes smoothly, and it fucking never does, then I can get us relocated by Halloween. Oh please oh please gods that might be listening… please help me fix this and move us.

Took tonight off to play with my new nook tablet, even though i have a lot of work to complete over the next few weeks. Which means that anxiety and panicset in rapidly. So tired tonight but dealing with major panic attacks and massive freak outs. I hate this!!!!!!!!

I am reminded tonight of why I work all night until I cannot possibly stay awake any longer.
My house is silent. I took tonight off from writing. But it is so quiet. It is lonely.

I cannot remember the last time that I truly enjoyed a birthday for all of the reasons that tradition says we should enjoy it for. Perhaps when I was 17? Or 18? I truly cannot remember.

My 34th birthday was unremarkable. I took my son to daycare. I ate almond butter on a rice cake for breakfast. I worked until noon. I ate a Smart Ones for lunch. I worked until 4.45 and then went to get my son from daycare. I spoke to my mom for about 30 minutes in the morning. That was nice. I found a box from FTD on my doorstep when I got home from getting my son. It contained a little yellow rose plant. So adorable and pretty.

I know that at 34 I shouldn’t care about birthdays. But I think it is more than I care about my family’s lack of remembrance. I feel so very disconnected from my family and I have this feeling that we will never feel connected again. I feel as though I have no family.

There is this idea amongst my relatives that I am “full of shit.”  Which, in South African terms, means that I am pig-headed, argumentative, and do my utmost to cause drama and shit in the family.

Being independent and thinking for myself gets me this title? I’m sorry but these people might be related to me and may have once hung around me a lot when I was growing up – but they do not know a damned thing about me now. I have been on my own since I was 18 – I don’t care that I was married – it was a shit marriage to a person who didn’t know how to emotionally connect to me and who was also entirely too wrapped up in himself. Case in point: I tried to off myself when I was 20 or so. He turned it around to be all about him, drove us around in the car pretending to get drunk and raving at me like a lunatic. Another time was when immigration things were met with a hiccup and required another appointment to be made – on the drive home, he screamed and ranted and raved at me, calling me all kinds of horrible names.

I have been on my own. Even while married.

I found myself pregnant and alone. I went through a terribly high risk pregnancy on my own. I had my child via emergency c-section surrounded by strange nurses and a doctor I didn’t know – without one single familiar face in there with me. I did this on my own. I took care of myself after my c-section. I took care of my premature child on my own. I’ve done this shit all by myself.

I do not need anyone to validate me or to take the other path of explaining just how I am doing wrong, lecture me on how they can do better, and generally make me feel like shit.

I do not interfere in other people’s lives. I do my own thing. I have been largely ignored for 16 years. I could have made better efforts to keep up with my brother and my sister – but our lives were so different after we lost our dad.

I turned 34. On my own. My mother left me a note on Facebook. Another friend did the same. My mother sent me flowers. That was it. No phone calls. No emails. No nothing. Heartbreaking even though it shouldn’t be.

It makes me want to withdraw from them even further. No one will miss me. No one will miss updates about my son. Hardly anyone in my family has met my son. They don’t make efforts to want to meet him. No one will miss me.

I resent my stay at home mom friends. I resent that they get to watch movies with their kids all day if they want to. I resent that they get to go to craft stores and go out to lunch if they want to. I resent that they don’t have to work their asses off to make ends meet.
I’m not getting embroiled in a fuss about how being a stay at home mom IS work – because yeah, I know it is. I do all that they do plus more. Yeah, I’m resentful!! Can’t help it right now.
And I am also sick of people claiming that daycare is a place where mothers who don’t want to deal with their children DUMP their kids. For most of us working parents daycare is a necessity. We’d rather stay home and play with our kids and clean our houses – trust me on this.
And if one more fucking person says I should have picked a better biological father for my son – one that wouldn’t run off like an ignorant coward – so that I could stay home with the baby then I will likely pummel them with carrots.
Our primary goals in life shouldn’t be to avoid work like the plague and stay home with the babies. Our goals should be to provide a stable home for our kids – sometimes financial stability needs to come before the kid staying home and avoiding being “dumped” at daycare.

Fuck ‘em all. I don’t know why I let people get to me!!
I’ve got work to do. Real work. That involves working and meeting deadlines. And earning money to pay bills and give my son the things that he needs and deserves.

This morning I have tried no fewer than 6 psychiatrists in my general vicinity to try and get an appointment. No one has availability for at least 6 weeks. The only place that could potentially get me in today is to meet with a counselor who cannot prescribe medications – this is at the mental health hospital in my small city. The person I spoke to on the phone said it sounded, to her, like I could benefit from spending a few weeks within their facilities just “regrouping” – wtf!!!

I’ve spent time in a mental health facility. When I was a teenager. It did help, yes. But I wasn’t a single parent who is desperately trying to run a small business!!!!!! I’m not going somewhere that is saying I need to pack a bag and come n visit. I just want medications to help me!

Another person I spoke to said I need to let her call me back this afternoon to discuss their intake process so that I’ll know what to expect. And then my appointment will be in the middle of March!!!

This seriously does NOT help my anxiety. Not one little bit!

I need help and there’s NO ONE who can help me for over a month! Does not help my anxiety. Nope, does not.

I just wish there was more help to help those who are drowning in anxiety and depression. It’s a real thing. It’s not just because I’m not strong enough or I’m pathetically weak or I just need to suck it up. This is a real thing that is taking over my life. No. It HAS taken over my life.

I’ve got hundreds of pages to write this week and all I’m doing is sitting at my desk crying because I can’t get HELP! I’m not sure my anxiety is going to let me drive more into Dallas. I want to but it takes a shitload of pumping myself up for these types of things.

My panic attacks are seriously, unbelievably!!!!!!! getting out of hand! I need to get to a doctor ASAP to see about getting a medication to help me. I’m managing to keep my kid from being affected by them but how long can I keep THAT up!

I am tempted to seek out alcohol in the house just so that I can try to get some sort of sleep tonight without waking up to yet another panic attack.

It’s 11.33pm tonight and I’m up to four panic attacks for the day. These suck. Badly.

I need to find a way to control them. I hate them.