Does everything feel hard to you?
Just me? Huh…
Everything is hard.
My respite in the Bahamas was short-lived. I was back in the office last week and feel like I’ve been on the usual rollercoaster ever since.
Hope basically kept the house and Yappy in order while I was away, but something just felt…off when I got home. The energy in the house hasn’t been good since the beginning of the pandemic, but there were all sorts of little things around the house that didn’t seem quite right when I returned. I just let it go and pressed forward because, really, what else am I going to do?
The moving-out deadline looms, and it’s freaking me out. Hope remains unemployed and unmotivated. We are currently in the very slow-moving car crash. Like, you can see it happening. This week the psychiatrist asked if I would be willing to put a pause on things. It was hard, but I said no, not without some kind of effort from Hope.
I take no pleasure in how all of this is shaking out. I’m miserable, totally and utterly miserable. And I’m realizing that everything is just feeling harder and harder to do every single day.
I’m scared that everything is going to fall apart, and that I don’t know how to stop it. I do not believe dropping the step-up or move-out requirement is going to change much at this point. I believe that we both need a lot of help and support, and we’re not getting those needs met. 1) They are hard needs to meet,2) getting the help and support we need is hard to access even with resources and 3) Hope is resistant to help. It’s all making me an increasingly nervous wreck.
I managed to make an appointment with a psychiatrist for me this week. It’s been a while in the making, and now I just have to wait two effing months before I can go. Fun times. I plan to call my own primary care doc by the end of this week to see if I can get another medication bump in the meantime. I am miserable.
Communication in the house is still tip-toe driven. And I’m constantly facing what feels like quiet resistance from Hope. It feels like we are utterly light years away from the close relationship we once had. Occasionally I’ll see glimmers of it, but it’s largely hidden.
I just want to see my daughter fully functional, able to better self-manage, emotionally regulate, and maybe, just maybe happy. I haven’t given up hope and I never will, but it just seems so impossible to achieve at this point. I know this moment will pass, but it would be really nice to know when.