I don’t know why I’m feeling the way I am. I’ve hit a depressive low is the most likely answer. Then again, with the news that I might/probably really, truly have systemic lupus has kind of left me feeling like I’m at the end of my rope. I mean what else can go wrong with me? I’m a fucking invalid – and I don’t just mean that in the sense that I’m sick, both with a mental illness and several physical ones, but that I’m not valid anymore because of these things. I don’t matter. I’m a drain. I’m a burden. I’m worthless.
I wrote something earlier this morning – way earlier. It was a Google Document that I shared with my husband in regard, at least in part, to this sinking feeling that I have. I feel as though it’s affecting him and I. I feel the fire’s gone out. I feel it’s my fault.
I’ve never been one to stay down for long, but this is driving me crazy. I guess it’s time for me to do things – anything, really – to get my mind off of it. Walking up and down stairs is a pain, physically, because my joints all hurt like hell, but I think I’ll work on cleaning up our room, at least somewhat, and start working on the mountain of clothes that need to be put away or something. I’m also going to take care of myself a little, clean up and try to cheer up via that. It sometimes works. I’ve got to reply to Candice about the state job she found. I need to reply to the invitation to bid on a project that someone requested. I should look through the freelancing site and see if I find anything I want to bid on and cross my fingers. I wish the other things there hadn’t fallen through, but whatever. What’s past and done is past and done and over.
I feel like I’m dragging my hubby down. And I can’t and shouldn’t do that. I need to stop it. Somehow.
(ephemeral)