Sanity is daunting for me. I'm too exhausted with my mental illness(es) to get better. What kind of a shitty excuse is that? I spent the evening with my oldest daughter and my youngest daughter tonight. It was at the dinner table tonight that I realized I am not in control any longer. She is. The ED is. It took everything I have in me, all of the strength that an exhausted, insane person has to sit down at the table to a plate of food.
- Put food on everyone else's plates first, of course - I'm the mom!
- Next cut the pre-schooler's food, of course - she is four!
- Oh I forgot the potatoes in the oven, jump up and get those!
- Darn - forgot the drinks....
- Mmmmmm I think this corn needs buttered....
- Did you need a napkin????
- I'm just going to throw some cookies in the oven NOW so they will be done for dessert time....
- Okay, guess I'll put food on my plate now, but not a lot, but enough so people don't say stupid shit like, "Is that ALL you are eating?" but not so much that I feel like overwhelmed that I am going to eat too much (I'm not even HUNGRY for fuck's sake - I shouldn't be eating).
To end this piece of shit on a positive word, my mail order prescription company finally got their heads outta their (insert preferred hole here) and my antidepressant showed up. Thank the sweet baby Jesus.