So, I am no longer volunteering at the Shelter, since I seem to be blocking my scheduled days to go there out of my head completely on those days. So, I can’t seem to make it there, so I didn’t want to let down the animals or the other volunteers by being unable to remember I was supposed to be there. I heard back from the places I applied for part time work, retail places like Target. They said they can’t use anyone who can only work 4-6 hours per day. Bought my son a tank, since he’ll be getting his license in a couple of weeks. Thought I got a basic old tank…but now the folks I bought it from let it sit with gas in the tank for 2 years. So, the gas went bad, and the 3rd day I drove it, it quit running cause it plugged up the carb. The repairs because of them leaving that gas sit in there is more than what I paid them for the car!! I keep finding out more things about my ex, things that keep astounding me, showing me I never really knew him at all. That he is incapable of true feelings for others, that he is incapable of truly connecting to others. I know I am improving in some ways. I know I am better at being reactive to external triggers. I know my others have found a new niche inside, and that even Anti-Kitty is adjusting her responses to perceived threats to us. She is much less intense, and is much less likely to overtake me when upsetting things happen, instead giving me a push, as it were, telling me she’s there, just in case. So, I’m a lot better able to deal with normal everyday stresses than I have ever been. So I know there’s been improvement. But at every turn in therapy, I seem to find a new thing, a new memory, or person, or behavior that overwhelms me, takes me over, and sets me back to when I first found out I was ill, as if there has been all this time pass and I am still in that same place where I started.
I had started to think that maybe I could actually continue to live after my kids graduate in 4 years. But now I’m back to thinking what I’ve been thinking for the last 6+ yrs….there is no future for me past them. There is no way I can support myself on disability, and I don’t have much confidence in being able to get any kind of a job after this recent foray into the job market. Well, that and the fact that I seem to block out work like responsibilities so that I don’t make it there at all. The only way I would be safe and secure (able to have a secure home and food) is if I get into some kind of group home for the mentally ill with assistance from my clinic, or if I just end it all and quit this pretense at life once and for all. No matter how much better I get or how much therapy I have, I always end up back where I started—its all my fault. I made these choices. It’s the bed I made, now I need to accept it. I’m just weak, always have been weak. If I had even once been strong, I would have made the right decisions and I wouldn’t be here where I am now. I wouldn’t be pretending at living. I would actually be alive. And I might even like me.