Meltdown

Today I had a freaking huge meltdown. I am one of those people that doesn’t go off much, I am the calm and collected one, but when I go off, I go off. It’s a family trait, my Mum and Brother are the same.

For weeks my mother has been in this mire of self pity, she also has fibromyalgia, but instead of accepting it and getting on with life as best as possible, she has immersed herself in the internet, the tv, food, and just self pity. She’s put on weight, I did also, I was in a bit of a funk as well, mainly because she has been and it tends to drag those around you in as well. I snapped myself out of it after a week, but she had got to the stage where the internet and TV was more important than putting the empty milk container, or tuna tin, into the recycling bin after she’d emptied it, which was like 12 inches below, under the bench.

Jack has also been not listening and doing the basics of the things I expect, I don’t expect much, but it’s not hard to put toys away after you use them, or put the washing IN the basket, not right beside it on the floor. Now we have a new family member, a younger dog, in the house, leaving shit everywhere is just asking for disaster. He’s also been just, pardon the bad language,  fucking plain rude to me, and I destroy myself making sure he has as good a childhood as I can manage, which, is much better than most able bodied fathers do with their own children.

There is a bunch of other things that have accumulated, like Mum saying she won’t put up with Dad’s shit anymore, but not really making it clear to him. He is a petulant child all on his own, and he is just so full of shit, and his own self importance. He probably won’t ever stop being a shit, but letting him think it is okay, is just becoming an enabler to his crap behaviour.

Yeah, yeah, I’m venting. I let fly this afternoon, at Mum and Jack, I told Mum outright that I was sick of her wallowing in self pity, that leaving rubbish within inches of the bin was just fucking bullshit, and that I am in agony ALL THE TIME, and am severely fatigued ALL THE TIME (she isn’t even remotely as bad with fibro as I am yet, she even admits it), but I still get off my arse and do shit, even when physically I feel destroyed.

In the time she’s been in the wallow, I’ve painted the side fence, installed solar security lights, still stuck to my laundry schedule (she’s run out of clothes a few times, as she has just not bothered to keep to her schedule, and she only has to wash her own clothes and bedding, I do 2 peoples stuff, and the extra kitchen and bathroom washing), done the lawn mowing several times (Dad just doesn’t bother, he sits arguing with strangers on Twitter all the time, another example of his shitheadedness), I get Jack to and from school every day, make meals, take mum out shopping when she wants (she doesn’t drive), I am just a fucking slave, and it is just too much. I really just feel that nobody realises I am actually a human being, I’m just the car driver, the home help, whatever. I am at the point that I don’t even think a holiday would help me not feel this way.

When I made dinner tonight, just after I exploded, Mum actually got up and started doing some stuff. Jack did too. After dinner, Jack made sure he put his dishes in the sink, and mum got straight up and washed them. It’s nice, but really, should it take you losing your fucking bananas to get others to help out ?

We all live here, shit, shouldn’t we all do our bit? I’ve even had some thank you’s from Jack, but, I told him that right now, all I can see that is is that I lost my shit and it’s not genuine, just I guilted him into it, and that for me to believe it, it needs to continue. I am sort of over window dressing, it needs to be genuine, and I need to not be a fucking slave.

Being as ridiculously unwell as I have been recently, doesn’t help. Fibromyalgia unwell, everything else is fine, since I have been getting flu shots and taking probiotics, the respiratory illnesses have become a thing of the past. This week, I have had to sleep from when I brought Jack home from school, until dinner was ready, 3 times. I have also felt like my head was going to explode, it’s not pain, just pressure. Body pain has been ridiculous, and as much sleep as I get just doesn’t do much at all.

Well, I am going to stew a bit more, try and sleep, and see you all later.

Andy.

 

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Emotional.

Too much has happened in the last 8 months. Too much. I am at the point where everything is too much. I need a break, but even that would be too much. The stupid illness is wearing me down, more than before. Although I haven’t reached the really bad, almost writhing in pain pain, it’s been so heightened recently that it has left me destroyed. I find myself on the verge of tears, especially when I start to think is it going to end. Am I going to get a break from this soon? I am trapped by my own body. I am being held to ransom by it. It is just so ……I don’t know, I don’t know.

I FEEL SO ALONE.

Today we were up early, for the little jaunt to the markets, it was nice, but to be honest, although we had a successful day, by the time we got home at lunchtime, I had fallen into despair. A not real taxing drive, and a little wander around an old WW2  Aircraft hangar where the markets were held had done me in.

I know that Mum notices that I am not coping well. I am so wiped out, and my enthusiasm is waning. I just want to have a decent sleep, have no pain, and feel good, even if just for a couple of days. I feel lost, I feel lonely.

It’s not depression I feel. I am prone to it, I know it, it is an awful companion in my life at times. This is just sort of like a Groundhog Day. Same shit, different day. It’s almost a desperation for it to just change. Right now, if I were to win the lottery, it would still be the same. Sure, right now I sit here writing with tears streaming down my face and I feel sorry for myself. I am allowed to.  It would be so nice if some lovely lady walked into my life, hugged me tight, and told me everything will be alright.

Anyhow, I can’t write anymore right now, I am going to retire to my cold bed, and not sleep properly again. I know.

Andy.