I had a difficult time waking up and then when I finally had I realized that lying in bed this morning I had thought BB was dead, and I sort of didn't care. I usually panic and think he's dead pretty often but this time a bigger part of me hoped it were so, just so I could be relieved from duty.
I told the hubs about this and also how I had wanted to hurt the baby (I brought him out to his dad when those thoughts happened) and we decided that BB was too sick to go to daycare for the day. I was crestfallen. The hubs asked if I wanted him to stay home in that way that means he wants to go to work and my mood plummeted deeper.
Long story short I told him "fuck off" at least half a dozen times and told him that if he gave me my tweezers back he could go to work. He didn't give me my tweezers back, but he gave me another pair of angled tweezers from his confiscated collection and my heart broke a little more again. He knows what I do with tweezers. He knew I was in a bad place. It was like he chose work over me. I understand he's gotta make a living but it was crushing.
I ended up scratching myself in a waffle pattern on my left forearm in front of him. He just watched and talked. Even afterward waffling about going to work or not. At that point I didn't care anymore. Fuck him. I started laundry and a dinner in the Crock-Pot, aiming for the day that I had planned out in my mind had I been childfree.
In the end, he ended up staying home. Citing a sinking feeling in his gut. I didn't care. I have mostly been ignoring him and the baby.
Fuck. My life's a mess.
In other news, I am now the proud owner of a little jug of stool softener tablets. When I opened the bottle I laughed and smiled. They are cute as far as pills go.
I figure you can make just about any pill two-colored like that but the fact that they did it for stool softeners just tickles me! Maybe there is something to it that I don't know, some insider story, but as is, they reminded me of candy canes (it being the season) and that cheered me.
Speaking of seasonal cheer, Baby Bananaface encountered his first Santa Sunday. It was hilarious! Our little attention hound turned chicken and it was precious.
So. I'm plugging along. Don't think my meds are worth shit, don't want to take them, will talk to my psych about it Friday.
Haven't been wearing my wedding ring for over a week (or my other regular ring). Part of it is the fact that they are loosey goosey, part of it is that my hands are horribly dried out and not having rings on makes lotioning up easier, and part of it is that I don't feel like they mean what they used to mean. It is troubling. This depression is some of the worst of my life.
Angry. Sad. Weary. I'm so mixed up in bad ways just giving up and doing whatever I damn well please is the only relief. As such, I'm gonna go sketch as I damn well please. Screw dwelling on this shit!