Here, breathing, surviving.

It has been one fire after another these past few days. And it’s taken every ounce of strength I have to get through it.

But I’m here. I’m breathing. I’m surviving.

Monday night was therapy. But Sunday, as you may know, was an absolute complete shit show. I didn’t want to go to therapy, not because I didn’t want to go, but because I just felt SO incredibly broken and undeserving. I felt like a complete waste of space and time.

And I knew I wasn’t in the headspace to…be open. Or talk. And if I did, I knew it would pour out of me in a way that left me shaking with anxiety and unable to breathe.

I went, obviously, because it’s the only place in the world where I feel safe. Or seen.

But, as I expected, I was completely shut down from the start. She pulled me out of it rather quickly, and I’m honestly impressed that she was able to.

We sat on the floor and colored. Except I was too stressed out about making it perfect, getting the image in my head to translate to paper. So I sat there and planned colors out instead of actually coloring. Not that it matters, I just think it’s funny that even something as simple as coloring has my brain on fire and stressed out.

We’ve been talking about “radical acceptance” a lot over the past year or so. Or, as I like to call it “life sucks, get over it”.

So we talked about that. And my marriage. And how I just eat up other people’s emotions. Not intentionally. But I just feel them so fucking strongly. So if my husband is in a bad mood, or even just an apathetic mood….it affects me in a really significant way. And I hate it. I hate that my moods just completely reflect how other people in the room are feeling.

I was nervous about going home, because it’s been a tense few days. At the end, she asked me what I needed from her. I said something along the lines of “positive and consistent human connection”. Because honestly, that is all I need. For a person in my life to be good. And consistent. And just there.

I felt a lot better leaving than I did when I got there. Which is always the mark of a super successful therapy session.

The night went well after that………until it didn’t. And then it got bad. And then it got worse.

Yesterday was spent much of the same way. Tension with my husband. Trying to communicate. It not working the way I want it to. Same shit.

THEN. I discovered that one of my children, at 4am, got into a brand new bottle of their vitamins. And ate 28 of them.

So I called poison control. And his doctor.

Long story short, he overdosed on Magnesium. he’ll be in for a few days of pain and feeling crappy, but it probably won’t kill him. Ugh.

Last night with my husband went much better. We had a good night, things feel better, and I feel like I can breathe again. I hate feeling so uneasy and insecure and just absolutely awful. I hang so much in the balance of other people’s emotions. It’s the worst feeling ever when I feel like I can’t control it.

Like…your bad mood has so much power over me, and it makes me feel disgusting. And uncomfortable.

I’m trying to put my life back together. But it just keeps on wanting to fall apart.

Therapy is good. It’s what I need. And it’s the only thing that’s actually helpful.

Things are immensely hard. And tomorrow is the last day of school, so they’re about to get even harder.

I need to stay strong.

But sometimes, that doesn’t feel like I choice that I have. And I feel everything but strong.