Shame on me for not updating in what feels like forever. I’ve opened this page several times over the past week to write a post. I then stared blankly at the screen for awhile and eventually walked away. I need to write. I need to vent.
Last week I had a meltdown. For good reason… or at least I think so. I hate my job, I hate the pain, I hate barely having a relationship with my husband anymore, I hate that someone in my family is always in the friggin hospital, I hate getting paid absolute crap, and I think most of all I hate being in this state and feeling like I don’t have anyone to vent to. Hello, blog. Yeah, I have my husband, who will always listen to me. But it’s always the same. He says everything will be ok. He says it won’t be like this forever. And I really wish I could believe that. Last week’s meltdown was for every reason and no reason at the same time. I have terrible anxiety on top of this godforsaken fibromyalgia and sometimes I wake up, look around and say “Fuck. This.” I don’t want to be here half the time. Does that sound suicidal? I suppose it does. I suppose I could say I’m also depressed. I’m certainly not happy. I want to be, very badly. But I haven’t been in SO long. I thought possibly, “Once we get settled in our own place it’ll all be different.” Well, I do love my condo, the location, and living on our own. But it just goes to show that material things don’t make you happy. (I’m pretty satisfied that I have a roof over my head. You know what I mean).
I don’t know how many times I can blog about how I’m not where I want to be in life, and that being on my feet for 40 hours a week is killing me, etc, etc. But that’s a big part of the problem. My fellow fibro fighters will appreciate this work story. I’m a pharmacy technician and a customer comes up to me and asks if we have a Minute Clinic at our store. (I work for CVS and some have a clinic you can go to if you have something like a sinus infection or if you need a physical, etc). I said that we didn’t but told her where the nearest one was. She proceeded to explain that she was in NYC the day before and had a blister on her foot and she didn’t know what to do because it hurt. I paused. What I wanted to say was, “A blister? You have a FUCKING BLISTER and you want to go to a clinic? You’ve gone out of your way to complain about a BLISTER? GET A GOD DAMN BAND-AID AND GET OUT OF MY FACE!” Instead I said “Let me get the pharmacist, she can assist you.” As I limped over to where my pharmacist was, I thought “How much longer can I do this?” I hate to judge people because I hate being judged and getting the “You don’t look sick” routine, but certain situations like that will put me over the edge.
I’m listening to music, which usually calms me down. I love my 90’s stuff obviously because it was the best decade ever, but I have quite the collection. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, it’s my therapy. I always feel so alone. I have a husband, I have some close friends and family members, but I can’t talk to them. I don’t know what to say. When someone says “What’s wrong?” I think “Where the hell do I start?” Could things be worse? Of course. But I hate when people say that. That doesn’t solve anything. It only makes me feel guilty for being miserable.
This post was random and negative but I needed to vent. I’m sick of putting on the fake smile every day. I’m sick of work and plans and everything else. The next 2 weeks will be rough. 10 days of work with 1 day off in between. HA, I have absolutely no idea how I’m going to do that without dying. But this is my life…
Song of the Day: “Wonderful” by Everclear – “Some days I hate everything, I hate everything, everyone and everything. Please don’t tell me everything is wonderful now.”