Write

Another hard day. I know, broken record.

Work isn’t the escape I was hoping for. I was actually quite excited to be back and sufficient until I wasn’t. I make enough at the rate I get and the hours, but I didn’t account for the fact that 4 months unemployed causes a lot of baggage.

I don’t want to go back to the mind set I adapted this summer of just allowing the day to go by so I can sit on money. I have no choice though.

It’s doable, but the sacrifices I have to make to do it are killing me. I can’t afford gifts for my kids this year. I already feel like I failure and now I have to sit there and let them down for their birthday and Christmas.

When Harmonia dropped me as mental health patient I stopped all the medicine. I have no provider so why keep taking something I would have eventually run out of. Not sure if that’s the recent reason for my mood of if I was always like this. I felt the same on the meds.

I’m tired of reaching out, but to afraid not to. It feels as though people don’t see me as a lost soul needing attention, but more as a toxic anchor.

I want to talk to Patty, but know in my heart that it won’t help anything.

I’ve worn out my welcome to anyone that used to talk to me. It is wearing on me today. There are new people at work that I am afraid to talk to. I hate toake them feel toxic around me when I keep repeating why I am quiet and sad.

Now I’m just rambling and have lost the whole point of this entry.