OK...I give up

I am finally ready to admit I'm stressing.

As I look around the disaster that is my house, the lack of proper preparable food, out of cat's food & water, needing to mop, do laundry, vacume and all the other things that doth MAINTAIN my world and realizing that not only am I NOT dealing with these things, I'm also not dealing with any of the heavier stuff I need to be dealing with.

Like...figuring out how co-residing is gonna work, or not...figuring out finances, committments, schedules...a divorce.

Dealing with the emotional onslaught that spending time "re-membering" myself is creating in me, and the subsequent anger, resentment and self-abuse that goes along with it.

Dealing with the emotional connumdrum that the re-introduction of a old friend has created for me, and the challenge that universe is throwing at me in that arena.

Dealing with my work load, the new standards, recording packages, time-lines and managing around vacations schedules and balancing the authority the compassion.

Dealing with my need to find a space of silence in my brain.

Dealing with my chronic poor sleeping patterns, the random irrational thoughts that swarm my brain, and the moments of my eyes filled with tears while my mouth fills with harsh words.

Dealing with parenting a child from whom I feel very disconnected right now.

I'm here. I'm burying myself in "feel good" things that are not necessarily good for me and not long term solutions. I'm evading and avoiding and hiding. And somehow, just telling myself to "get a grip" is not helping.

Challenges in Parenting

So, I know I'm falling down on being an effective mom right now. I don't have sufficient resources to use my own self-discipline on myself, let alone extend that to K. I am not eating properly. Picking up after myself. Preparing meals. All the things I was doing so well with for a while, earlier on after zagatto left have fallen by the wayside. I simply can not bring myself to the space where I care!

I don't care whether or not I have lunch. I don't care if my food choices are healthy. I don't care if I step over the same piece of paper on the floor several times. I don't care whether or not I prepare a meal for her.

This is the space where I know that I'm falling into a depression and I can see it coming a mile away. I have a Dr. appt on Monday where the discussion will be a formal increase in my meds (I've been managing on my own on an increased dose due to having extra's on hand), and something to help me sleep. I also need to call my EAP and get an appt. booked in order to lay the ground work for what I can see is coming.

The slippery slope into the abyss is yawing wide before me. I keep trying to turn my head but it continues to mock me at the corner of my eye.