I haven’t posted anything personal outside of my mood trackers in awhile. I’ve been stuck in my head for a long time and have been buried in my work.

• Busy with the blog scheduling posts while hoping something will happen with my new online store.
• Busy homeschooling my oldest son.
• Busy with IEP meetings for my two other sons.
• Busy managing the mental health crisis of my youngest son.
• Busy with managing household duties.
• Busy playing mom taxi for medical, school, therapy, and extra-curricular appointments.
• Busy trying to manage my own mental illness.
• Busy trying to support an equally busy friend whom I love dearly, Tuxedo Cat’s father.
• Busy managing my father’s unpredictable mood every moment of the day.
• Busy navigating my mother and the dynamic that goes on between her, me, my kids, and my dad every day.
• Busy dealing with whatever last minute plans my parents have dumped on me that day.
• Busy dealing with whatever bullshit my ex-husband or his family has decided to foist upon me.

This is what my day looks like every day.

Yet… because I am a stay home parent I am treated like I do nothing all day.

• Because I’m struggling.
• Because I’m failing.
• Because the balls are dropping.
• Because chores don’t get done every day the way they should.

And when I ask for anyone for support or help, I’m told they are busy. Not just busy. I’m given a long list as to why they are busy.

I end up feeling I had no right to ask for help to begin with.

The past few months all I have heard repeatedly from my parents:

•  That I’ll be stuck living here for the rest of their lives.
  • both my mother and father
• When they’re gone, I will need someone else to take care of us.
  • my father
• Anytime me or my boys do X, why didn’t we also do Y.
  • my father
• And of course, X wasn’t done right.
  • my father
• We didn’t do X at the right time of day.
  • apparently dishes can only be done at night, after dinner
  • wood needs to be brought in only at 3pm
  • trash should only be taken out in the morning
  • the list goes on
  • my father
• God forbid if anyone needs to be reminded or told to do X.
  • we’re just supposed to know and automatically do it
  • my father
• My ex-husband will be taking Little Bear away from me.
  • This alternates between scenarios of kidnapping and court.
  • always my father
• The doctors don’t know what they’re talking about.
  • my father
• Med shaming regarding my as needed anti-anxiety meds
  • Saying people take them because they want them, not because they really need them.
  • Saying people make up excuses like, “Oh today is going to be a stressful day so I’m going to just pop this pill.”
  • Saying people have no idea how to handle stress and don’t need these meds.
  • God forbid if I take this med in front of him.
  • my father
• Anytime any of the boys go into crisis, threats are made if I can’t get them “under control”.
  • my father

And so, I’ve sunk lower and deeper. Darkness is coming and I am drowning. And to make matters worse, I’m running low on meds. Somehow I have missed this in all of the chaos in the past few weeks and I need to make an early med clinic appointment to get a refill. I don’t know how that happened. Something didn’t line up right.

Yesterday, I hit a crisis point so hard it hurt. I turned to the only person I trusted. The one person that’s been seeing and hearing all this. He knows I’m not making any of this up.

But a couple of problems occurred.

The first was the timing. He is a very busy person. I know this. I understand, empathize, and respect this. I do. And I try very hard to be supportive of this. I swear. I do know what it’s like to burn the candle at both ends and to be pulled in every direction. And it turned out that yesterday was a very stressful and busy day for him too. He was in need of support and I wasn’t in a place to give it.

That was the second problem. I didn’t just not give him support. I got angry and lashed out, because this isn’t the first time that this misalignment has happened. I was hurt by that. I initially viewed it as being treated as a back up plan – which also hurt.

The bottom line is, I’m moving mountains for people at the last minute to pour from a cup with resources I barely have and when I ask ANYONE to refill my cup, I am consistently told I am shit out of luck.

• I am told why I can’t have help.
• I am told why I can’t have emotional support.
• I am told why I can’t go out of the house to take a break.
• I am told I am being needy.
• I am told I am asking for too much.

And it’s not just him. It’s everyone in my life. And it hurts.

I’m tired of hurting.

The third problem is that I’m positive at this point I’m experiencing an episode of some kind. Dark intrusive thoughts are invading my mind. Obsessive perseverations circulate through my head that even an immersive project won’t block.

Originally, I didn’t intend to tell him any of it but it came out any way. And it freaked him out. He told me that I didn’t use to be like this. Not back when we were engaged years ago. The thing is, I didn’t give him details last night. I only told him it was happening with a vague explanation of it. And back then, I didn’t even hint about the intrusive thoughts. I had no idea back then what it was or that there was a trigger. I was too afraid to trust anyone with this back then.

And so he told me I needed to call and make an appointment because he wasn’t coming over.

• Because I had pissed him off earlier.
• Because he needed to decompress.
• Because he didn’t know how to deal with any of this.
• Because he didn’t know how to give me the emotional support that I needed.
• Because he thought giving me the hug I needed right now tomorrow was fine.
  • Which, by the way, is like offering an umbrella to someone after a storm has passed.
    • And I told him that.

And if I thought that I couldn’t feel like even more of a burden, I was wrong.

• He expressed resentment that he feels guilty for telling me no for anything.
• He told me he doesn’t want to be my hero, even though he likes the thought.
• He doesn’t want to disappoint me.
• He doesn’t want to stop being my friend or disappear from my life.
• He also has repeatedly told me since Little Bear has gone to the hospital that he can’t handle the pressure right now.

I guess he just doesn’t want me to ask him for anything anymore?

I resent the fact that the support I need is too much to deliver but I’m still expected to give support. It’s not how I understood how any kind of relationship is supposed to work at all. Yet, here I am still giving my support. Like an idiot.

So I worry that somehow our dynamic has become unhealthy or toxic.

I promised him I would make the call even though Sunday their office would be closed. I did, at noon. And their office was closed. I left a message on their voicemail with the med clinic telling them I need an appointment as soon as possible for a refill.

I also tried to explain to him why his response to my crisis and my need for a hug was problematic and why I used the umbrella analogy. It’s because right now I’m not actively suicidal. And I need him to understand that if someone else had been actively suicidal that him making someone wait on hold for two hours like he did with the promise that they would be right back last night would have meant someone would have died.

And he kept pressing me with the question as to whether or not I would have reached out to someone else. A question I could not answer. The fact is, when someone is actively suicidal they reach out to the one person they trust the most in that moment if there even is anyone at all. And if that person fails, their chances of survival drops significantly.

But here’s the thing: not everyone that is actively suicidal reaches out at all.

And my therapist knows that I’m one of those people.

• I am afraid of hospitals.
• I don’t want to go in-patient.
• I know my ex-husband is gunning for me.
  • He’s looking for any excuse to use against me.
• I can’t be in a crisis of any kind – like ever.

So for me, if I am actively suicidal… if I reach out at all, it’s going to be to the one person I trust the most to be discreet and keep me company.

To help distract me and ride it out. I don’t want to talk about suicide. I don’t want to talk about dying. I don’t want to give words to whatever dark thoughts invading my mind.

Because you know what? It’s just a storm in my brain. It too will pass like everything else. So instead, I’d rather have someone be there, give me a hug, tell me I am wanted, and go do something fun with me. Anything to keep those dark thoughts away.

So if you KNOW me:

You know I’m a home body. I prefer to stay home. I keep to myself most of the time. Right?

If you get a random phone call or text from me asking you if you want to go out, know that this is a big deal.

Don’t be afraid to ask me what’s the occasion. I can 100% guarantee you this is a mood shift of some kind. Ask me if I need you, because chances are I wasn’t able to tell you when I first started talking to you due to my mental state.

I don’t know what things are going to look like moving forward, but I know that I’m going to be okay. I’ve pulled through before and I’m going to again.

I’m just deeply wounded to realize that I have lost a trusted person in my life.

Because yesterday’s storm has passed and I’m sitting here sopping wet surrounded by the wreckage. I’m too cold and tired to clean up at the moment. And I know soon he’ll be arriving with that fucking umbrella hoping that I will smile.

And I don’t know if I can, but I’m going to try.

I just hope I can restore my friendship with him. I will update later with how things go.