Gil: Did you soak my meat thermometer?
Gil: Seriously? My meat thermometer has been sitting in dishwater overnight? Are you freaking kidding me?
Me: Yes, and no I’m not joking. I’m sorry. Add it to the list of my weekly fuck-ups. Are you done?
He slams the door.
This is how my entire life feels these days. Nothing’s working. I know it’s a big exaggeration, and most of it is in my head. I also know I’m depressed. I’ve been down this road enough times now that I at least recognize the symptoms. They are vast: exhaustion, irritability, short-fused, anti-social, hopeless.
But the one that I feel truly separates true depression from a mere funk, at least for me, is the feeling that I SUCK at everything.
Here’s how it goes:
I drop the kids off 45 minutes late at preschool. In my head I hear: You are a worthless, shitty mother who does not deserve the precious children you’ve been given.
My house is a complete wreck, and the nice lady that I’ve hired to clean because let’s face it, a housekeeper is cheaper than a stay at the mental hospital, walks in, smiles and begins tackling MY disaster. In my head I hear: You suck and don’t deserve anything you have. Anyone worth two cents should be grateful to have your life, and your sorry ass can’t even keep your house clean. You’re using money you do not have to pay someone to do what any capable person should be able to do. You don’t have a job. Why can’t you keep your house clean? Because you SUCK! That’s why.
Gil calls and asks if we need anything on his way home from work. I tell him we don’t really have anything for dinner. He volunteers to grab take-out. In my head I hear: You shitty, shitty wife, mother, person. He’s worked all day and now he has to take care of dinner, too. You are pathetic. You deserve nothing but shit in your life because you’re worthless and you SUCK at everything.
I’ve had enough cognitive therapy to know how to counter these automatic thoughts, but quite frankly, I don’t have the energy to do it right now. I just want to feel better.
I’ll stop whining now. I’m going to get up and do something productive. Being a mother has taken its toll on me. I love my kids, but I feel overwhelmed and in serious need of a vacation, and I do not mean a family vacation.
My idea of peace is silence; not hearing “Mom!!!” every fifteen seconds. I guess I need medication that actually works, but from my past experience I know that finding one that works is not simple. I’ll try to come up with a mental health plan and get back to you. From experience, I know things will get better, even though it really doesn’t feel like it at the moment. Thanks for listening.
2 thoughts on “Stuff I Screw Up”
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OMG YES!!! This is exactly the story of my life. Especially the conversation in the beginning. I love how succinctly you put it. Thank you so much for sharing this with me and letting me know I’m not alone. Huge hugs and love.
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