So lately I’ve been trying not to freak about about J losing his job. Live in the moment, and all that crap. I can’t seem to shake the feeling though that the universe is givin’ me a raw deal.
I’ve done pretty well so far. I mean, we’re completely broke, but I still have a roof over my head, and food in my stomach. But this is the second time that I’ve said aloud and to anyone who would listen that this year was going to be different, and MEANT IT, and got backhanded by “The Powers That Be” as a result. Last time, I ended up in the ICU for a week. This time, I start legitimately making plans, and.. NOPE! Never mind your plan. See that rug you’re standing on? Yeah. I’m about to yank that out from under you.
It concerns that me that I am completely numb to the whole thing. I have moments of feeling like I’m going to barf, others that I feel I’m just going to fall over and die from being so stressed, and others where I can’t stop laughing my ass off. I’m constantly wondering if this is the straw that’ll break the camel’s back. I’m especially feeling the lack of “religion” in my life… when I was a Christian, I had all these tools in my back pocket for dealing with matters such as these, that I don’t feel necessarily apply here. Or at least I could talk to my family about it.
I hate to sound melodramatic. I hope I don’t sound that way. I’m not okay with feeling this way… there’s people that exist that use their depression/anxiety/mental health issues as being almost a crutch… a reason for acting whatever way, and a reason to never figure out who they were. I’m trying from the other end… I’m DESPERATELY trying to figure my life out, and I keep getting cut down. Every. Time. And reply to this or don’t… it’s cathartic for me sometimes just to get things out.
I just can’t shake the feeling that I’m not part of anyone’s plan any more. Or my own. How much pain is one person supposed to take?