It’s all too much.

I’m just laying in bed. Waiting for sleep to come. Waiting for the mixture of benzos to do their job. As I pray to drift into numbness, I can’t help but feel sad. So incredibly sad.

Fake it til you make it. Right? But what if you never make it? What if you can’t fake it anymore? Then what? The last weekend I worked I had a table ask if I’m always happy – No, why would you say that? Because every time we’re here you’re happy and so nice and pleasant. I simply smiled, laughed & stated – Fake it until you make it – if I didn’t I’d be a disaster. Walking away as they laughed.

Life is spiraling. My feelings are imploding. My anxieties are packed so tight I feel they may explode at any moment. All the Xanax and Klonopin in the world doesn’t fix this pain. The emptiness is painful. The fear is real. Some days I really don’t know if I can do it for another second. Some days I don’t know how I am holding on. Inside, I am a disaster and I fear soon I’ll be a disaster on the outside too.

Where to even begin? There’s so fucking much.

1. Max has the new habit of telling me he’s going to move out. He doesn’t think it’s working. This just isn’t what he wants. My brain wants to just say – Fuck you, leave. My heart doesn’t though. My heart breaks at the thought. Our relationship has 150% struggled the last 18 months – IVF, losing our daughter, life – it was all too much. Yes, I spent many days so full of anger, rage and sadness. The catch is – things have slowly gotten better the last 2 months. I would have understood leaving me 6 months ago. I wanted to leave me too. Yet, our relationship is finally thriving again, finally heading in the right direction and NOW you want to give up? It makes no sense. He’s convinced he’s dying (he’s not – he’s a serious hypochondriac) and thus should leave to spend his last year free. To save me from having to be there for his death. I’m so fucking frustrated. Honestly, for the most part we’ve got a fabulous relationship that only has gotten stronger. I don’t understand. Am I that awful?
2. My grandparents aren’t doing well. At all. It’s terrifying. They raised me for 14 years. They’re more like parents. I hate every ounce of this. I’m not ready for this. I’m terrified of losing them. I’m overwhelmed at the extra responsibility I’m going to have as time goes on. It’s a no-win. All I can do is pray for more time.
3. Zak’s surgery is 2 weeks away. My anxiety surrounding this is strong. Add in the suddenly crazy relationship shit and my grandparents. I don’t want to go. I have to. But I don’t want to. Will the bottom fall out while I’m gone? Will Max leave me? Will my grandparents die? Will Zak not do well? I’m dreading it. Again.
4. Remember – no job come 7/1. I’m trying not to think about this. Sometimes I do though and for a brief second I’m filled with immense panic. I’m trying to find the positives but this fucking sucks. It’s hard to care when you know the end is in sight. We’re just stuck in limbo. Waiting for someone to say what’s next. It’s the government. Who knows.
5. All of the above impact income, money, savings. Literally. All at once.

There’s just so much going on. And I have no control on any of it. I want Max to open his eyes and see he’s being stupid. I want my grandparents to live forever. I want Zak to suddenly be better. I want this whole job thing to end and just be a nightmare.

2024 was supposed to be the best year yet. Instead, it’s been one thing after another. It’s been a constant state of anxiety and unknowns. Heartbreak. Hurt. Sadness.

I never question why people give up on life anymore. My only thought is, how did they hold on so long? How did they endure so much before they couldn’t handle another blow?

I’ve got therapy Monday. Yeah. I need it. Badly.