Friday:
The title is in reference to my pets. The dogs—Roscoe the pug, Gracie the beagle mix and Ellie a hodge podge mutt—are the ones usually available when I need an immediate reason to smile. The 3 of 4 cats—Lexie, Paint and Sophie—are usually able to provide some comfort when they purr and head butt to get my attention. Misa—the other cat—is more attached to my dad. These guys push my inner pain down enough to keep existing most of the time.

Monday:
I’m beginning to wonder if I really am f*cked up in the head…like really. Maybe mental and emotional exhaustion have something to do with my weird twisted thinking. I find myself unwilling to believe that having a sleep study and most likely being fitted for a damn cpap will change my life for the better. I want to scream when I hear people—specifically my parents—say “you’ll feel so much better once your sleep is fixed.” Maybe a large part of the anger is wondering what my last few years would have been like it I had had the study done then? I am trying so hard to fight my tendency to think idealistically. I’ve put too much hope into things before which makes the unwanted outcome that much more excruciating. My mom’s drinking is one example. When the episodes of out of control drinking—followed by a period of sobriety then a relapse–first began, I had the audacity to express my visible anger toward her. Me of all people doing that to my own mother—who chose to put up with my emotional bullsh*t and morbid thoughts as a teenager and young adult. Despite having learned to keep my anger inside, I still berate myself for the thoughts I have about her drinking. Every afternoon, before they come home, I brace for the possible events to come: will they bring home alcohol? Will something have happened at work to stress them? Will I be stupid enough to let my ever-present anger show? Will my brother call, figure out they are drunk and then contact me to get clarification? Will he then ask me how I’m handling it? I have only really poured out all of my emotions to him once. It didn’t turn into a bad situation. He was awesome, he was so supportive. And damn it, I was able to actually cling to him and cry!! God, he can’t possibly know how much that meant to me! I cried again later on as I laid in my bed….whether it was due to a feeling of being free of an emotional weight or relief that he didn’t give me the funny look I have gotten from our parents, I can’t remember. I was probably asleep soon after. Crying exhausts me…even writing this blog is becoming more difficult. The fatigue that I so often feel after venting is almost a guarantee.
I have to admit though, this is probably the most I’ve written in under an hour in the last several months.
I have to give in and take a nap, despite the orders to abstain by the sleep doctor and my nurse practitioner. I’ll be useless the rest of the day if most of my energy goes towards trying to stay awake…that makes sense, right?
Wouldn’t you know it…a bottle awaits. This on top of the struggles of today isn’t good. If only I could either: handle the hard times like others or just have a f***ing accident.