Falling Apart at the Seams

I feel like I’m at a breaking point again.  Oh, I’ve been at worse points than this.  But you go for so long in a manic or even mixed state and then – BAM! – you become depressed and “paralyzed”.  You know you have so much stuff that needs to be done, but none of it matters, even though part of you is willing to give it a try.  It’s just the rest of your body doesn’t know how to explain to that little percentage of you on how to get things done.

What makes it even worse is when someone sees or knows you’re upset and they practically treat you like you have the plague.  Don’t shed any tears!  Make no mention of the “D” word!  You’ll be fine!  Go take a nap or something!  No.  It doesn’t work.  Even if it did, I can’t do that with 2 children around.  There are others depending on me and I’m at my worst.  How can I possibly help them?  I do, of course, but that’s as far as I get.  My mind and body are screaming for help!

I hate this motherfucking feeling.  I was better than this.  Really.  I was.  I could say “then I had kids”, but that’s like blaming them for my faults.  Yes, I became a mom, but I’m only supposed to get better as a person because of that, right?  This is coming out all wrong.  Wrong or not, I’m not editing to make myself look better than I am.  This is me, breaking apart, throwing out whatever comes to mind.

I need help.  I need the people around me for help.  I know I’ve gotten through worse before, some of it on my own.  It just seems like it’s getting worse as time goes on, which is not a good thing for me to believe.  I want to feel needed and important again, not given a small pat on the back and sent on my way.  Don’t ignore me.  Please.


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