Week 1 w/ The Count

I’m more tired, not sure if that’s a side effect of Zoloft or life. Zero sex drive, again, not sure who’s at fault there.

I’m less anxious, which has made me a little more motivated. I’m still swinging highs and lows but that’s to be expected. 

The Canadian turkey massacre is commencing this weekend, I’m expected at two family events. Pray I make it through them with out mass amounts of conflict. Fingers crossed for the Count. 

 I still feel the urge to bash people’s faces in with bricks, but my anxiety has less of a grip making it easier to stay level during these situations. Sounds and voices still grate on my nerves, I could barely speak for wanting to throttle a friend today at a play date. Granted, she’s of the 99%. 

There’s a relaxed state of hilarity at home with the kid, 3 is such a wild age. In a moment of loose emotions I told him to fuck off. He responded with “My no fucks off Mommy” and I combusted with laughter. The little dude is my magnetic to the earth. I am forever grateful for the way he pulls me back down and picks me back up. At 3 years old he doesn’t yet understand the enormity of the weight on his tiny little shoulders to keep his Mama afloat. I pray I don’t burden him too long, for fear he ends up like me. 

I feel my demons sniffing at the edges of this new found clarity and some days I almost will myself to allow them to comfort me. The exhaustion often tries to take hold and drag me into the comfortable abyss of nothingness but I haven’t succumbed yet. And that’s something, I suppose. 


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