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Life has been hell.  There’s been some good sprinkled in, but not alot.  

I’m struggling.  Badly.  I think I’m becoming med resistant, and that’s fucking scary.  I’ve been battling a MONTHS long mixed episode, in top of medication issues, living arrangements, divorce, work, my kids, and now reoccurring possible endo pain…Guys, I’m tired.

The kids, Florida and I moved into our own place.  It was much needed.  Only now I’m the only one working. My job has been difficult.  The state granted a new company the medical contract for the IDOC, and the switch over has been a nightmare.  My boss was like working for my ex husband.  I did so much over there, and yet someone was more concerned about my 2 minutes tardies.  Petty.  I was able to transfer next door and get a raise, but no shift differential.  Win some, lose some.  All the bills are coming due and I have to pay them.  Alone.  And I’m a bitch because I want to relax when I come home, not make dinner and clean up.everyone else’s shit after doing that at work.

I feel unappreciated and not taken seriously.

I’m looking for another doc.  Again.  The last one flaked out when I didn’t get an email or phone call that my appointment was cancelled.  NOR did I get a call to reschedule.  I had to call her personal cell to set up an appointment, on a day I’d already taken off.  Because God forbid I miss work.  We we’re supposed to do a telehealth visit.  Didn’t happen.  I never got the email to do it.  So now I’ve been u medicated for 6 weeks or so, and I feel like shit.  I’m not even spiraling the drain.  I’m a fucking rock that’s sunk to the bottom of the lake.  And I’m fucking tired of being as proative as possible​ and still getting shafted.
I have to get all this paperwork together for my lawyer for my divorce.  At least I did ONE thing right when I got my settlement but hiring an attorney.  Please God, give me the strength to get through this…

I feel helpless during this.

I’m not looking forward to Mother’s Day.  Isn’t that sad?  Because I k know I won’t get any time to myself.  I will have to clean and cook and put things away and HOPEFULLY sleep before my shift.  I won’t be getting anything.  Monkey will make me something at school or here at home.  As much as people complain, she’s the only one that really does sweet things for everyone.  She wrote ” I ❤️ U MOM!” on my dry erase board so I could take it to work.  

I’m so lost.

I can’t feel anything-like I’ve been dipped in novicaine and wrapped in bubble wrap.  I don’t SEE anything-when I look at things I don’t see or feel anything.  I’m empty.  Again.  And I’m at this point where I don’t think any amount of doctors or therapists or programs will help me get better.  And I know that’s the depression distorting everything.  Sometimes, though…that voice wins the day.

I don’t feel like anything I do is ever good enough-except at work.  I work so hard to get things in order and keep them there.  It helps that my coworker and I work really well together and I can see what she sees when she talks about trying to make things better for us at work.  

Wish it was that way at home.  Florida isn’t working.  That’s for another (probably far off) post.  He said that he won’t be the ” house bitch”.  I tried to tell him it’s not being a house bitch, it’s about being a responsible adult and taking care and pride in your own space.  I’m the bitch because I have to still take care of the cleaning.  Picking up dishes that aren’t mine because I wasnt home.  Trying to vacuum up crushed styrofoam from packages.  Putting together furniture. So many loads of laundry.  Reminding the kids to clean up after themselves.  All while I’m working or sleeping, Florida is playing on his computer and talking to his friends.  Did I mention how this prevents me from sleeping?

I’m defeated.

I’ve been having ALOT more side pain.  I’m scared the endometriosis is growing back…and at an alaing rate.  I need to call me doctor and I need to get my records.  There is a facility in Atlanta that specializes in endometriosis care, and they offer a free records review.  If they feel I am a candidate, then I can come down.  I need this.

I feel hopeless.

I don’t​ know how to process all of these things and keep myself from loosing it.  Even more than I have.