Wednesday, November 23, 2011

Questioning.... everything

I question everything now.

I am clinically depressed.
How much of each thought, each action, is the real me, and how much is the distortion of the depression?

I get so easily irritated, I am so quick to blow up. I give up on things so quickly... it's just not worth the effort. But would the real me - without the filters of depression - be irritated by this, or angry at that? Would the real me give up, or is it really something that should be pursued, something I should try to fix.

My husband came home from nightshift this morning. He was being sweet, trying to rub my shoulders. I was just irritated that he was in my way - couldn't he leave me alone until I finished what I was doing? But I have to question... reacting this way is not going to lead where I am trying to steer this marriage. Maybe the real me isn't irritated, maybe it's just the depression talking. Or maybe the real me just needed a few moments to finish what I was doing?

He left something on the counter. Should I complain? If I do, he will get defensive. If I don't, there is no way for him to know this bothers me. I don't have the time or energy for an argument... but this is another barrier between us. What would the real me do? What is the best answer to get me where I want to be?

Oh my god, for someone with so little spare energy I spend an awful lot of it fighting with myself. Fuck I hate this.

My kids were arguing tonight. I intervened once, but the argument flared again almost immediatedly. I intervened a second time, but they continued to bicker. I had no patience. I shouted, I sent them to bed early - more than half an hour before the regular bedtime. My youngest was very upset... disappointed that he lost his story. I already feel bad for shouting. I know that I am too crabby tonight, but I am also so tired, so worn out. I said goodnight anyways and left him feeling torn. Did I overreact? But backing up on a punishment is not a good precedent to set. And I did give them chances. But I still feel worse than before. I want to cry.

Fuck this is a shitty place to be. And I HATE that I can't even trust what's inside my own head.

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