šŸ–¤šŸ˜‘šŸ˜” Depression, Anger and Grief. šŸ˜”šŸ˜‘šŸ–¤

Just a quick disclaimer: This post is likely to be difficult for some people to read. I write briefly about suicide and my own true feelings on it. I will understand if anyone wishes to give this post a miss.

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Today I have not been myself at all. Depression has decided to visit me except this time it feels really bad. Isabelle has been at her nan and grandads today luckily, they have her for the day either on a Saturday or a Sunday every weekend to build up a better relationship with her and for her to have some freedom away from us. I hate feeling this way when shes around so I was so greatful she was out today.

I don’t know what’s triggered it or why I feel like this but all I know is that I hate it. I have been feeling angry inside at Peter because I’ve been robbed of the choice of taking my own life in the future. All day I’ve been thinking about suicide on and off and how I would do it. I now forever have to be the strong one and live with this mental and physical pain for the rest of my life because even though I question whether Isabelle would be better off without me, I just couldn’t put her through that grief again, I couldn’t ever do that to her! There is literally no escape from it ever. I don’t expect anyone to understand my thought process behind it all, some might even say that’s a selfish thing to even think about but if I could control those thoughts then trust me I would! I wish more than anything I could just wake up one day and my brain would be different, my depression, anxiety, fibromyalgia and grief would be all gone and I could start living a decent fulfilling life again.

At the moment, I don’t really feel much other than numb inside. The same ball of sadness that has sat in my stomach for as long as I can remember has only grown bigger. I want to feel proper emotions, I want to be truly happy again. I want to re gain my interests in the things I once loved and were passionate about but instead those feelings are replaced with a lack of motivation, sadness, not caring and not bothered about them anymore. Holidays for example, I used to love searching for the best flights and hotels and I would genuinly be really happy and excited. Now, I’ve barely looked and just feel unmotivated about going anywhere.

I’m forever questioning my parenting abilities. Would Isabelle be better off without me? I feel like every negative thing that’s happend in her life so far is my fault some how. She has anxiety and panic attacks, yet, I blame myself for her having them. Even down to really ridiculous stuff! I feel awful that we don’t live in a house with a garden and a bathroom on the same floor as the bedrooms. I feel like she’s missed out on SO much of her childhood, basic things like playing on a swing or slide in the garden when the weather’s warm, playing in her paddling pool, sleeping in a tent in the garden, barbecues in the summer, having a play house, doing some gardening. Thing’s most people take for granted. I’ve been trying to get out of this flat since 2013, that’s 6 years of desperately trying so hard and I’m still nowhere near to getting a house. I am pretty sure this flat doesn’t help with my mental health as there are so many memories here and not all of them are nice.

My brother’s girlfriend gave Isabelle a new coat today, so of course in my mind I start thinking ‘Isn’t the coat she has now good enough?’ ‘Do they think her old coat isn’t warm enough?’ I’m always really greatful for everything anyone gives her but my brain is an arsehole and still goes to that irrational assumption when the depression is visiting. I feel like I’m never doing enough for Isabelle and that I could be and should be doing so much more for her, everything I do just never feels enough and that she’s always missing out on something. For most of the time I feel like I’m the worst parent in the world and she deserves so much better than me and what I could ever offer her.

I miss who I used to be when my life was good, when my smiles and laughs were real, when I wouldn’t question whether my friends actually liked me or is it just pitty? Do they really want me out with them or am I invited just out of politeness? I’m often thinking they probably all hate me really and find me boring and uninteresting.

I miss not being able to feel and having enthusiasm for life and the things I once enjoyed. I don’t even know who I am anymore and that makes me sad.

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