I am stressed all the way out. Beyond any ability of grasping. It's not just I didn't finish my homework stress. It's I seriously have no idea what I'm doing ever at all (of life.) I'm in a constant state of wingin' it. In a constant fight for survival.
I could tell you that I don't have enough income to cover all my expenses but you can see that from the 3 overdrafts in the last 2 weeks and the fact that I don't eat nearly enough because I can't afford too. Honestly, I'd rather eat limited calories than fuel my body with the junk they put in food the "less fortunate" can afford. It's basically poison. I have enough emotional poison I don't need to poison me physically.
I barely finished 75% of my home work so far because I took too many classes. (Not that I could help it because I wouldn't be able to go to school without enough credit hours to qualify for a student loan. I don't know what financial aid looks like as I haven't had it in over a decade.) But you can see that I'm overwhelmed by just looking at my failing grades.
My desk at work overflows with tasks upon tasks. I'm not neglecting them but there truly aren't enough hours in the day to get everything done the way it's supposed to be done. I've actually given up my sanity purposefully some days to take care of things. You can see the exasperation pool in my eyes as tears I can't let fall. Or from the bags that sit beneath my eyes indefinitely. Hidden only by the fake smile I'm forced to wear.
I feel like a failure of nature. My inability to procreate combined with my inability to control my health. I'm coming to terms with the first because as you can see I'm in no place to care for a tiny human even if I could. My health though, that one is a thorn in my spine. I admit I'm not nearly as active as I was in months past but stress has been the worst road block in my life and it's spurned on by the lack of productive hours in a day.
I don't sleep well. It's just isn't a thing. yeah, there are days when the exhaustion puts me in a coma, but generally my sleep consists of tossing and turning and nightmares and nothing resembling rest.
Per an internet-based questionnaire I took earlier this week, I'm severely depressed. A good 21/27. I would've never referred to myself as depressed. Retrospectively, at least not until a couple months ago. Seeing it blatantly displayed on my phone screen was a gut-punch. I even had to say it aloud. "I have depression." That took a ridiculous effort. My friend asked what I was gonna do with that information. I said, "The only thing I can do, keep it truckin'." I know that wasn't a solution or the best answer but it's the only one I had.
Don't get me wrong, I know I'm blessed.(Don't get caught up in the meaning of that word either it's subjective but that's the term we're going with.)
I am a lucky girl. I do survive. It's kind of my superpower. I have amazing, supportive, caring friends. Most of all, I have a mama you all should envy me for (Don't worry, I know you all claim her.) I manage to "succeed" at just about anything I attempt and I'm more than aware that a lot of people can't say that. But that doesn't stop depression. Logic doesn't supersede mental illness/wellness. I am truly trying to be productive in life. I'm trying to do more than survive but only time will tell.
This may come as a surprise maybe not. I always thought I was good at faking it. I've come to learn that faking it catches up with you more often than not.
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