I honestly have no idea why I titled this post “Octo-Sharknado”, it really has nothing to do with this post.
It seems all my posts have been pretty negative and I want to apologize for that. I also want to further apologize because this post isn’t going to be any different.
Lately, I haven’t been feeling well…physically, emotionally, and mentally. I seem to be getting increasingly sick, but I can’t place what I have. I have a cough that is getting worse and it has reached the point that I’ll throw up and get a bloody nose. I get these demon hybrid tension-migraines too, but I think it’s from clenching my jaw in my sleep. I noticed I do it without realizing it when I’m awake. I haven’t been able to focus on anything either. I’ll even stop mid-thought and just feel defeated.
I’m noticing that I’ve been stuck between feeling anxious and scared to being numb. I have to fake being happy for my daughter’s sake and it usually makes me feel even worse and exhausted. I know I need help and getting treatment will help, maybe even me out too, but I don’t have insurance and if this new bill passes Senate, I won’t ever get to see a doctor again because I’m a walking pre-existing condition. That’s just adding to the fear. I had a few anxiety attacks yesterday over that new bill. I can’t help but feel this country is doomed.
There’s this overwhelming sense of dread hanging over me and it’s making me feel hollow. None of my methods to feel better are working either and I’m at my wits end. The last time I was this bad was before I got pregnant and I started smoking pot. I remember how relaxed I was and I was actually able to enjoy myself. I could sleep too and woke up without feeling like I was hit by a train. Of course, I stopped smoking when I found out I was pregnant, but here I am now, my daughter now five years old, and wanting to see if pot will help me again. Unfortunately, it isn’t legal here and I’m unwilling to risk losing my daughter to get it. Does wanting to smoke to relieve this anguish make me a bad parent?
I’m sitting her, on the verge of tears, trying to tell myself that I’m not a complete failure, but I know I don’t believe that. I feel like a sponge soaking up every negative emotion and energy in a wide radius around me, even things I’m not physically near. I hate this feeling.