wreckage

Some days are good, some days are bad.  

What happens when there get to be more bad days than good?  Why, they put you on meds.  And it doesn't really solve anything, it just makes it bearable, and you're addicted and have another added expense to your cost of living.

It's okay.  Nobody generally gets to see the mess.  In fact, most people don't realize it exists.  Which is good, I guess?  That makes a person 'high-functioning' with whatever they're diagnosed with.

But I don't think I was ever diagnosed with anything.  Just given a handful of pills to go along with what ails me.

So, nobody really knows.  Nobody saw me burst into anxiety and tears when I realized as my husband was leaving for work, that I didn't make his lunch and he didn't have time to.  Generally, women do that when they're scared about the repercussions of that lack of action. Not me - I was just truly distressed that he was going to have to find something else and that it wasn't set in stone he was going to eat during his lunch break this evening.  Literally burst into tears.  Which is juvenile at best, but probably a good indicator as to how unstable I feel.

And somehow he feels that repeating, "It's okay.  It's fine.  It's going to be all right," is somehow a soothing Mantra.  Sometimes I feel like he is really trying to convince me, other times I feel like it is something he is asserting because he thinks I'm feeling like the world will fall to pieces if he doesn't say it and it's a chore for him to do so.  Oddly, it's all of those things.  And it drives me crazy (or, maybe crazier than I already am?).

But it's time to 'go make the doughnuts'.  Or in my case, sweets.  It's odd......cooking and serving candy to pay my bills.  I just find it amusing.