I feel like I'm walking down a dead-end road these days. I'm just out of it, going through low-level panick attacks that sometimes last for days. I cannot sleep, I'm over-worked, stressed out, and in a serious depressive phase. At the moment, I just feel like I'm missing my life. I'm going through the motions, doing everything that is expected from me (or at least try my best), but feel, as if my life is passing by me and I'm missing it all.
I see so many people just doing what they want, no matter if it's smart, or reasonable, or responsible, and they are being rewarded for it. This one time in the last year that I have gone out of my comfort zone is biting us in the butt big time right now. Our house (or what is supposed to be our house at some point) is causing trouble after trouble; on top, we have Richard's health issues, so it's all on me again. And I just want to break down and cry. I'm feeling the weight getting heavier and heavier by the day, but I cannot get out, because I have responsibility towards my family.
I thought about seeing a therapist again, but I simply don't have the time to do so, if I want to see the girls at all. There is the option of medication, but I have made the commitment to myself long ago that I would not put those chemicals in my body ever again. During the last weeks, I've been drawing on my stores, and now they are nothing but empty, but there's no way out right now.
While I think that way, the guilt comes. Why are you thinking like that? Be happy you have a wonderful husband; there are plenty of people out there who are by themselves and wish to have a partner by their side. Be greatful that you have two wonderful, healthy children; many wonderful couples out there struggle or have given up on ever hearing little feet tap through the house. You're lucky to have such a great job; look at the job market and tell me why you think you are in such a bad place?
And here I am, in the dead-end between not knowing how to get out of bed tomorrow morning and carry on while dealing with the incredible guilt for feeling the way I do. Maybe I just miss the sun; probably, once summer hits, the depression will lift and I'll be able to pick myself out of the hole. Things will come together, the surgeries will be fine, the house will eventually be built, and next year, a new year will come. But right now, I am where I am, struggling to keep my head above the water while all I want to do is giving up.