Confession Sunday

Dear Anxiety,

It’s Sunday and I know I should not be worried about tomorrow but I am a bit. Part of me had a plan of calling or going up there to the job and do what I have to do to get it. The other “parts” of me Ms. Anxiety and Ms. Depression along with Queen Fibro, they have caused me to question everything. Friday day I got muscle spasms after using the bathroom. The muscle spasms lasted the rest of the day and night. I thought going to sleep, it would help relax my body, but that didn’t help at all.

Queen Fibro, she’s whispering in my ear making me question if I can really do this. Along with Ms. Anxiety questioning everything that could go wrong. How will I explain all the years I’ve been out of work. Ms. Depression is telling me to just keep working at doing my writing, crocheting or knitting.

I fear reaching out. I told myself I will wait to see if I get a phone call Monday. Hopeful that since I’ve been a assistant manager before despite being out of work for years, I will get a call for an interview.

I regret not printing out my resume but honestly, I don’t really know how much I want this. I’m so conflicted, I need money, I should have money, I fear failing, I fear being fired, I be leaving another job. I’ve done it so much in my past that what will make it different now. I’m older and in more pain now so it’s even harder to want to do it.

I want a career. I don’t want to get stuck at some job. Unlike most people I know I won’t me able to work a job and still focus on trying to build a career. All my focus will go to just trying to do that one job, which isn’t even worth it. It will put a little something in my pocket and keep people off my back about not working. It would hopefully take my guilt away.

The thing is I feel I’m still not doing it for myself despite wanting some money. Money has never been my driving force to anything.

I’m so messed up. I have to stop thinking about this now before I go into a panic attack.

Have a wonderful restful day.


Can’t Sleep 

It’s a little after five in the morning and I been up since yesterday, I can’t sleep. I’m crying still thinking of things said to me yesterday. 

I’m going to move on from it but it will always remain with me as a weight on my back. 

No one understands me and they all think they know me, it’s laughable. 

Here’s some things said to me yesterday by my mother, FYI she has major depression sees a therapist and psychologist and takes prescription drugs for it among other things. 

The first statement was said to me after she asked me a question but knew i was about to get started up and she wanted to stop me. This happens a lot because she can’t handle my truth and the way I see things and she doesn’t like when I remind her of my childhood. Yes she did the very best she could but she fails to realize I did my very best as well and that’s what I continue to do, my best without having a nervous breakdown and ending up being admitted into a hospital. 

“No I’m sorry I asked. Nope, I don’t want to hear what you have to say. I know whatever you’re about to say is going to be stupid.” 

These statements were said when I explained how I don’t agree with taking drugs. As if I’m going to pop a pill and it’s going to motivate me to want to live in this world. As if it’s going to make me a entirely different person. It’s going to make me look at life so much better and I’m going to be so happy and nothing will ever bother me or worry me again. 

“So when are you going to fix yourself?” 
“When are you going to get help?” 

This statement here I didn’t even understand. I guess life and living is about money. If I was working no matter how much I make, no matter how I feel, it would make people look at me as a better person. 

“It’s not that you’re unimportant, it’s that you don’t stay at a job for very long.” 

I’ve worked many jobs, longest time was eleven months. Every job I worked extremely hard, gave it my all. Mostly retail jobs but also some working with food. The most I ever got paid an hour was $9.50. Still living at home at the time I had to help pay bills. So it was impossible for me to save anything. I didn’t see how I would ever get enough money to get my own car or my own place to stay. I remember my mom told me that I wouldn’t be able to make it on my own or afford it. I only got praised when I was doing what I was told or she was in a loving, caring mood. 

Growing up life for me became more difficult every day. 

She hates when I say, “Well you wanted to have kids.” Or “I didn’t ask to be born.” 

I think it’s wrong for people to become parents and think that them doing what they think is the best they could do is good enough and after 18 years old sometimes sooner, that now it’s the child who has to figure out life from there. Being told “I didn’t have anyone to tell me how to do things or explain it to me. I had to figure it out on my own.” 

Wow, it’s just wrong. At some point the chain has to be broken. I love my mom so much but she should not have had me. I should not be here. 

I believe when I was born, both my parents were depressed and it got worst. My entire life I have been trying to fix myself. I’ve been trying to fit in. I’ve been trying to live as others do. My entire life I have not wanted to be here. 

I apologize for being a disappointment and not trying hard enough. Not being able to be someone who they can brag about. 

It’s not that I’m lazy I just can’t handle all the stress in the world. Stress of working and stress at home is just too much for me. It’s not that I want someone to support me it’s just I’m already working overtime tending to my mind, body and soul. The sad part is I believe I’m failing at that as well. 

Hear Me Loud and Clear 

I have said it and they seem not to want to believe me or refuse to hear me. I said it though, loud and clear. 

“I want to die because I’m not living.” 

I only live for others around me. I only live for the ones who claim they love me. I live because I refuse to give them motherfuckers another reason to talk bad about me. I can just imagine the things they would say. 

You can’t keep telling someone who wants to die to get a job. I clearly proved I’m not cut out for that. I tried little over ten times and I somewhat succeeded but then I failed over and over again. 

I said, I know I said it, loud and clear. 

“I want to die. I don’t want to be here.” 

Maybe they don’t believe me because I follow up with, “I don’t have it in my heart to do it, I just have thoughts about it sometimes.” 

How about supporting me in something I enjoy doing and that I’m good at, help me make a living with that. Nope, that would be to easy. You would actually have to care about me to want to do that. 

Do I just give in and be like everyone else, even though I tried already but give it another go and maybe at age 32 I will finally stay at a job for a year and have people still talk shit about me because they expected so much more from me than working as a cashier at some stupid store. That I’m too smart and I should be doing so much better. 

Oh another thing that people keep talking about is me having a baby. [Now why would God allow that when he knows I haven’t even figured out how to support myself yet.] They say things like… “When are you having some babies?” I think to myself like “Oh you know what I think I will make one tonight.” Is there some magic pill I don’t know about that I can magically get pregnant. People rarely ask if I even want kids. I have been married for eight years, these people don’t think we haven’t been trying. They don’t know if I have complications or whatever. 

I know most people are tired of their jobs or tired of doing the same old stuff etc… That is so much different than I’m tired of breathing, of feeling, of thinking. 

The difference between me and others are I’m the one who makes the ones I love feel better. Try to make them smile and even cater to them. Some may think that’s at least I can do for them providing for me, putting a roof over my head etc… I look at it as I’m good at this and they’re good at what they do. I try again to be who they are, then who will comfort me at the end of the day? Who will comfort them? Like cooking, cleaning etc… oh yeah it would still have to be me. 

Then this everyone wanting to be independent thing. Not having to depend on anyone. That makes me feel like, then why do I need you around me if I’m doing it all by myself. I have to love myself, I have to support myself, I have to encourage myself, I have to motivate myself… The fuck is anyone good for these days? Everyone claiming to be different but all trying to do the same things. Makes me want to die even more. 

I will never change and be like anyone else. Yet I will probably never kill myself even though I don’t want to wake up, but I’m more woke than most. I want my time to hurry up and come. I used to think that I may miss something if I was gone but I’m starting to think there won’t be and no one will truly miss me. They will only miss what I do for them, not actually miss me as a person. The things I do, they can pay someone to do.