Well, it's official: I cracked tonight. Everything caught up with me at once and it was overwhelming. One moment I'm looking for nail clippers to cut A's toe nails. The next thing I know I've been crying hysterically for the past two hours with her nails still not cut.
I have a history of depression. When I was fourteen, my parents moved right before I started high school. I didn't know anyone and I was too shy to make new friends. The classes were so much more challenging than junior high. My old friends had very limited time to see me during the week. My parents would restrict my time with my old friends on the weekends for some stupid reason or another. (This was before we all had cell phones so it's not like I could stay in contact with them all day long like I can now.) I could easily go days without talking to anyone. That's when the problems started.
I realize I could disappear and no one would notice; I could die and no one would care. I became depressed and tried to commit suicide more than five times in a two year span. I made sure not even my parents knew of my failed attempts. After those two years, I decided enough was enough. I sought help from a school counselor. I was allowed to transfer back to the high school I should've went to. I went to a psychologist and a psychiatrist. I was put on antidepressants. Then my parents told me the insurance wouldn't cover both types of care so I had to stop seeing the psychologist. I was embarrassed that I was the only one I knew who needed antidepressants to make it through the day so I stopped taking them. I wasn't doing anything to keep my depression at bay but I actually managed to feel fine most of the time. I didn't worry about it.
The problems started up once again when I got to college. Once more, I didn't know anyone and I was too shy to try to make friends. In that first semester I managed to make my suicide attempts into a double digit number. C even caught me on the last attempt. He begged me not to do that ever again. Honestly, I told him ok to his face but had no plans on changing. Then I found out I was pregnant with G.
Being pregnant changed everything! I was fine hurting myself but I would never let anyone hurt G even before I knew what an amazing kid he would turn out to be. I still dealt with my depression but no more suicide attempts.
Over the next few years, I had a few "flare-ups." My life was tough but it was usually something simple that triggered it. I was going to school full time, work part time, and stayed up all night with G almost every night. I had barely time for homework or studying but I needed to keep my GPA up so I could keep my scholarship. Anything less than a 3.5 meant I would have to drop out of school. I couldn't afford to stay in without my scholarship. My parents were constantly criticizing me during this time. Sure I kept up my grades, took care of G, and went to work but my room wasn't clean so therefore I was a miserable excuse for a human being who would be too lazy to ever make something of herself. Even after all this, do you know what set me off the most? Driving.
I don't know what it was about driving but it triggered the most depression flare-ups than anything else in my life. Whenever a car would cut me off or nearly hit me I would think to myself: "Wow, how did that driver know I was too worthless to be treated like a fellow human?" That's be it. Cue weeks of crying hysterically about all that was going on in my life. I was pathetic. Apparently, even now I'm no better.
When I got home today, my mom confronted me about needing to plan G's party. I'm already planning the party the way G wants it. We sent invites to all his cousins (aka C's family) to join us at Chuck E. Cheese. No, I also need to have a party for my mom's side of the family because they understandably won't be going to Chuck E. Cheese. My mom always plans these parties and they are always at her house. She expected me to invite everyone to her house? No, I can't do that. Only she can invite people to her house. Once again, I'm being treated like the laziest POS she has ever met and my son won't get any presents from her family because of me. Ugh! Not only do I not have time to plan a second party, I have no desire to do so. I never wanted to plan any parties. It is an unnecessary amount of work for something that isn't even worth it.
I was fine when she tried to emotionally blackmail me. I was fine when I thought about poor C stuck in the brig for trying to return home to his family. I was fine giving A a bath and washing the face paint off G. I was fine when I thought about the huge list of chores I wanted to accomplish tonight. (Only one task completed by the way.) I noticed A's toe nails needed to be cut so I looked for the baby clippers. When I couldn't find them, that's when I couldn't control my crying.
It's all getting to be too much! G is acting up! A won't sleep for more than three hours straight! C is being tortured in the brig and not allowed home! My parents yelling at me for not doing something even though I'm pushed to the breaking point already! And now I can't even take care of my children because I can't find the stupid clippers!!! Thankfully, G was asleep by that point so he didn't have to see me like that.
I need C to come home. I need to move out of this toxic environment. I can't do everything, but I can't keep everything bottled up inside me either.
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