Another Day of the Living Dead

I slept until 11am today which is SUPER early for me. What an early riser I am! This 41 year old woman. This mother. This employed person.

This isn’t good. I instructed my son to please get dressed today because his father will let him sit around in his underwear all day. I mean, he’s a kid so it doesn’t really matter. But I know how much more “normal” I feel when I force myself to get dressed. Considering his genes, I need to impart some of this wisdom to him however I can. So I said, “please get dressed. Sitting around in your underpants all day is not healthy.” My seven year old’s retort? “Sleeping all day isn’t healthy, mom.”

It felt like a smack. I said, “you’re right. Mommy’s not feeling very good lately.” And because he’s a needler, he felt the need to clarify, “mommy, I’m talking about you.” I love his personality. Oh, I know, kid. And I’m sorry your mom is such a dud.

My best way of connecting with him is by doing art projects together. I am always trying to think of something that won’e more the hell out of him. We’re now painting rocks and leaving them around the park. Then we go out to see if anyone took any. I asked him if he’d like to paint rocks with me tonight and he reluctantly said yes. Is he doing it to make me happy? Shit. How did this happen?

I know I’m depressed when my face feels like a mask. It doesn’t move. It just stays looking sullen. It doesn’t feel connected to my skull. It feels far away. I try to contort it into a friendly thing when I’m at work or if I have to interact with someone at a store. I’m an expert at this shit. I’ve been doing it for over 25 years.

I’m going back to my former therapist. She was wonderful. I just stopped because I was feeling better. I have a hard time being vulnerable in front of them. But I’m so done with this shit. I need to move past this.

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