Wait, Who Am I? Who Are You?

Well. Life's been caught up in school. I've been working hard to get things together. And I was honestly doing that. I pulled out a > 3.4 GPA last term. I'm averaging a ~3.96 in one of my classes thus far. But...well things aren't going as well this term. shit's not getting done, and I'm feeling frustrated and exhausted, and my blood sugars have gone to fucking hell. as in, the doc's going "uh...your heart, little man, you're gonna burn it out you keep this up." And I know it. I've set alarms trying to get myself to pay attention to them to shoot, but for some reason, the efficacy that is there for my 10:30 shot is not there for my normal daily shots. I just ignore the damn alarm. I've missed far too many classes already, and things are just over halfway.

I suspect a huge portion of this has to do with my mother. I am not equipped to be her therapist. especially if I have to do it while navigating her saying things that are the equivalent of a punch to the gut about my life, what I'm doing, and what I have done. I am in the metaphoric rock vs. hard place locale. I don't want to cut her out of my life because that adds to her depression (which I know 100% is there, and is quivering on the suicidal edge, that's what got her locked up in Dec.) and I don't want to suddenly feel like a big chunk of responsible for her if she does kill herself. But. I can't live like this. she is negatively impacting my life. my school, my want and ability to enjoy things. She makes me want to hurt myself, and lash out at her, and the most desperate part of me thinks that maybe if she did kill herself...maybe I'd get some form of painful relief. That scares me. I don't want my mother dead. I just... I need away. I need her to be safe and not this massive burden on my life. why does that seem like too much to ask for? I'm 23. she's 50 something. It's not like this is an old lady. why can't I get some kind of help? why do I have to lie to get her put in a place that will save her, and me?

And yet...I'm still wondering over how people tell me I've had a tough life. I'm sorry. I just don't get it. I mean, no, I don't think my life has been peaches and clawless kittens, but then I don't think anyone's life has been that way, so what's so different about mine that makes people take note of the bad parts?

I think I'm going to ask the nice head doc to help me look into options to help 'cause I know I'm somewhere in depression land. I hate pills, but if they help me get back to where I was...maybe I'll think about it. maybe there's better options. I need external help. I wish it were there for me.

love is a puzzle
some pieces they adjoin
it's not like that with us
but i keep flipping that coin

i watch you sometimes
from oh so far away
but i can't forget you
or anything you say
Ani Difranco - Nicotine

02.03.2007 - 01:53

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