Another Bad Thanksgiving

Yes the meal turned out great. Yes we had a good time and good companionship. Yes I ain't too much. Yes, once again my husband was irritated with me about the whole thing. I wish he could just appreciate the effort and time I put into Thanksgiving every year. I wish he could simply understand how much I love doing it and wouldn't resent me for it every year. Why can't he just be proud of me? Why can't he just accept that I love this stuff and be happy that it makes me happy? I don't want to not do it because it is what I want to do. Yet, if I didn't do it, my spouse would like it so much better. I'm so sick of the whole thing.

Nothing I do is ever good enough. If it is, he never tells me. He's quick to point out my flaws, faults, and mistakes but is never quick to point out the good things I do. I hate having to fight for everything or going behind his back to get things, but he never seems to be on my side. I never get any validation for what I do. Why do I need this validation? Is it because I never get it from anyone? No my family that's for sure. I'm always the selfish one or the obnoxious one or the honest one or the one who takes advantage of everything. I'm a good freaking person, yet no one seems to feel the need to validate that for me. I say or do one wrong thing and that negates all of the good things I do.

I'm a good friend. I'm loyal. I'm trustworthy. I usually put other people before me. Why don't these things matter? Why is my uniqueness and out of the box personality so villified in my own world? So what if I'm not predictable? I hate being predictable. I wish I could be more "normal" but I don't even know what that means. What is "normal"?

I've been deserted again by someone I care about and admire. I said one thing that he obviously took the wrong way and now I'm cut off. No more discussion. No second chance. Just complete and utter silence. I used phrasing he didn't like because it was "juvenile" so he got mad and now there is nothing but quiet. He's the one who says he hates arguing. I wasn't arguing. I wasn't trying to make him mad, but, yet again, I did something wrong and I'm punished. I'm tired of being punished. I'm tired of being wrong. I just want to be me. Not what everyone things I should be, but me. Fully and completely myself. What is wrong with that?

I'm tired of being judged for everything. My weight. My outspokenness. My lack of talent for housework. The fact that I don't have children. I don't want to be perfect and I don't want to feel like that is my ultimate goal. I just want to be happy. Is that such a big request? I just want to feel like my life is my own and be proud of what I am. I'm sick to death of being ashamed of myself and my actions all the time. So what if I have impulse control? So what? Damn it! I'm okay the way I am. Why does everyone think I need a complete overhaul?

It would be so easy to crawl into bed and sleep forever. I think my personal safety is at risk. A bottle of sleeping pills and a 5th of tequila is starting to look pretty good. Or a stay on the 4th floor. I want to go to Cascades for awhile. Maybe someone would miss me then. Maybe they would realize I am an important person with validity if I were to just go away. Now I sound like a 5-year-old who bundles up their possessions and runs away to prove something. I wonder if I can do that? Running away sounds pretty good right now. Somewhere quiet with no judgements and a lot of time to myself. But, then I would get lonely. I'm hopeless. Never happy anywhere for any reason.

Down the Rabbit Hole

My mom is here. She's been here for 2 weeks and doesn't leave for two more weeks. This is supposed to make me happy. Instead, I feel trapped in my house even though I'm not. I'm edgy, tired, exhausted, cranky, moody, mad, and lonely all at the same time. I feel like the walls are closing in, but for no good reason. I'm taking my extra Klonapin to squelch the panic attacks. I went for a drive last night. I took the dogs for a walk today, but I can't shake the melancholy. To top it all off, I think I lost a friend today and I didn't do anything to deserve it. I have no idea where my head is or what I am supposed to be thinking. I'm not mad or disturbed, just so freakin' tired I could sleep all the time. Either that or I feel like I need to breathe into a paper bag to calm down. I never seem to write in this thing unless I am under some kind of trauma. I guess that is why I am not a good jounaler (journaller?). I'm trying to cope, but I'm not sure what to do except sleep or be angry.

I have therapy tomorrow, but I can't decide if I'm going to take my mom or not. I took her last week and I think that session started this whole spiral. When Theresa asked her for stories about me as a child, my mother doesn't have any. It is almost like I never existed before the age of 25. She doesn't remember anything specific about me. She had stories about all 4 of the other kids, but nothing about me. She doesn't even remember that I took care of the monster brat for 4 summers. How can you not remember anything about your child? Maybe this is the reason I don't have any of my own. I hate the idea that I could do that to another person. Was I that forgettable? I've always thought I was the overlooked and forgotten child, maybe this just proves it for me. I can't get past this whole thing. Why is it that everyone else in the world remembers me vividly, but my own family doesn't? I freakin' hate it.

I need a best friend. I have friends now, but I need a best friend. Someone I can talk to and trust with all my important stuff. I want to talk to someone about this friend I pissed off today, but I don't know who to talk to about it. I have to be able to trust them and lately I trust no one. What the hell is wrong with me? I'm taking the drugs. I'm doing what I'm supposed to be doing. It has been working. Why suddenly has it stopped? Why am I so restless again? It can't just be because of my mom. I want to go to Cascades again. I haven't felt like that in ages. Why now? What has changed? I need to sleep or drink or something.