destressconfess

[destressconfess]

Confessions of a functioning C**ehead A Series

(This series is real diary entries from a woman who had a drug addiction and was not very good at hiding it. these are real, the views are scattered and unpredictable but hopefully they are relatable to someone who is also struggling as a functioning addict desperately trying to get clean)

I wouldn't be upset if I found out Don wanted to see someone else. Just look at me! I'm a mess! I have no confidence, I have no swag, I have no glow! I can see why we've never gotten married or why there wasn't/hasn't been an engagement. I pushed all that onto him. I wish I was pretty again. I wish I loved myself and woke up every morning confident. I wish I was in school. I wish I liked looking at myself. I wish he would leave me and my problems and find himself someone who can be his woman. It feels like I can't because I feel like his annoying little sibling. I wish I knew how to be a woman or lady and how to be a wife, mom, daughter, sister, niece and granddaughter. I just want to know how to be right.

He won't even look at me. We're always side by side but never face to face. Maybe he's tired of me and this life. I hope I haven't ruined his life and he's now stuck with me. I hope he doesn't think he is stuck. I'd rather him be happier without me than hating life with me. I thought I would breakdown writing that, but I didn't. I love Don that much. And if he'd want me back, I'd wait and won't feel stupid about t. He's playing my favorite Kush and OJ song, but I can't vibe to it. I wish I could shake this off of me. Normally I can but I fear it might take forever. Physically, I'm starting to feel like I have been carrying this giant weight and I can feel myself weakening. I'm not eating like my "normal", I'm not laughing or smiling like my "normal", I'm not carefree AS my "normal", I don't feel my childish/young mood as my "normal". Mentally it feels like a radio fuzz and occasionally I connect with words and sentences. Hearing and understanding still feels okay.

I'm more frustrated. I see it more. I wish I could figure out why. It's not about money or bills, it's more like I'm in a constant scare house. I'm afraid of everything I do now. I'm afraid to speak. I'm afraid to go somewhere that I wouldn't normally go to. I'm afraid to start a conversation with anyone, Don, my mom, my sisters, brothers, strangers or even a person I've said Hi to. I'm afraid to try and go to a school and try to learn something someone like me learns. I'm afraid to tell people my dreams. I'm afraid to email Jenna and volunteer because that's not what I'm supposed to do.

I feel like I'm not a normal person and I'm to the point where everyone I encounter everyday had a box they fit into and I'm trying so desperately to fit inside mines. I used to consider myself weird or slightly unique like the kids. But 2 days ago, I woke up and now I've been scared to return back to that stage. I'm scared that that's the person.

Don wants to really have me as his wife. But what if? I just feel like I'm stressing him too much. I want to ask him what could he have possibly wanted in a wife. Why would he consider a woman like me? I think I can maybe try to go to Saturday mediation. I miss new and old me. I miss being the opposite of love and being in love with my man and my kids. My family. Life and everyone and everything else. I don't like "keep moving forward" I swear that sentence and me encouraging myself saying that these past months is f***ing up me being me.

I like to float. Don knows that. I haven't been floating, I've been tripping and now I've fallen. Of course, I can get up, but I've been choosing not to get up just one more time. I really need support getting up. Lord, where can I find my support?

[destressconfess]

New Year, New BS

As the first month of the year is drawing to a close, I can probably get a few head nods of confirmation that this first month has started off in the hole. The shit hole specifically speaking for myself. As of January 18th, 2023, my life has tumbled into what seems like an endless rabbit hole of insanity and disbelief. Let me start at the beginning...

January 18th, my car breaks down. Literally at a stop sign with about 4-5 cars behind me, it decides "You know what I'm tired of being reliable and carrying you and your family around! I'm sick of being dependable for your kids' education and your employment. I have officially resigned!" at a mf stop sign. I wanted to jump out and lay out into the street. I was only into my first week at another job and had braved the winter storm early morning to avoid calling off. Naturally, I would've confidently said hell no while calling the call offline and enjoying my peaceful, snow stress free day off. But nope, I tried to be an adult and got royally, unethically anally f***ed from behind once again by life.

My man has always tried to reassure me that I am not a jinx. And I counter his reassurance with my lifelong acceptance that being a jinx is a twisted genetic trait that I pray I haven't passed on to my children. Ever since that fateful Wednesday night, my jinx has had a winning streak. Disciplinary notes from the kids' teachers, Moms is driving us adults and children around, trying to sell a non-moving vehicle, trying to keep everyone fed, trying to figure out ways to pay Peter and Paul, it's all become too much. Reality of the situation we're in right now is pimp slapping the hell out of me!

To be completely honest, I've had my moments of clarity and realization that my actions have most certainly caused these consequences but geez freaking Louise, when will the clouds clear and the sunshine again. Being without a car in the winter in Pa with no transportation and young children is a buzzkill on the mental. I recently broke down to my mans about not being okay. Lately, before this whole car fiasco, I have felt incomplete. My inner confidence isn't matching the outer. Mentally I feel as though I should check myself into a psychiatric hospital. The struggles of being a woman, wife and mother hasn't smoothed out for me yet and I'm trying to figure it out. With tax season here, it has brought some hope that there is a light at the end of the tunnel, I just have to be patient.

But that the hell am I supposed to do? I know the changes that need to be made and I know I have to gain that determination to become greater. The goal is to be self-sufficient and no longer depend on food stamps and assistance from government housing. It's just so damn exhausting. I know life probably wasn't easy back in the 00's, 90's or 80's but to be frank, I honestly think they had it a little easier. Sure, racial tensions were high, unemployment was high and probably everyone and their momma was high too! But in the 20's, it's become a mental, moral and emotional warzone. The strength I've seen my family members possess is starting to diminish either due to old age or financial troubles. It's a scary world out here. My jinx doesn't make it better sometimes and sometimes it does. Finding an extra $11 on the street is a good jinx. Blowing your alternator with no warning is dreadful. Either way it goes from this day forward, I'll continue to struggle and claw my ways back up and to better. Not just for my kids, but mainly for myself.