Maybe if I type this shit out I will feel less like I want to put my fist through the wall.

I’m frustrated that I have basically entirely stopped seeing my therapist because I can only handle so many 3-4 hour round trip experiences for therapy in a week and my children think that it is very important they get to play board games with their expensive shrinks every week.

I am not getting as much pain reducing medical care as I would like to get because I’m paying off the birth. I’m not going to be caught up in the health section of the budget for six months and all these travel vaccines and shit are really expensive. So I’m not going to get as much massage or chiropractic care as I could use to be in less pain… until next year or later.

I like going to Renaissance Faires. But I can’t handle the drive to go to most of them and I keep missing the San Jose one for various reasons. Like, I could go today by myself. But my kid already went yesterday with other friends. And Noah’s exhausted and wouldn’t be up for going and having fun. So I’m not going to go. Because going by myself with the baby wouldn’t be a lot of fun. And I can’t be away from the baby long enough to go actually alone. So I don’t go.

I asked Sarah if I could join her on a trip to see her nail person. Because it’s stupid and I wanted to do it with my friend. The timing isn’t working out (she tried! I’m not bitching about Sarah in any way shape or form) and it looks like she will just take my kid instead.

I set up a nice hammock in the back yard because I wanted to spend time this summer dozing in it. My kids decided to turn it into a nasty mud pit. So I made them clean the hammock and I just got rid of it. There is no point in me trying to do something nice for myself.

I really wanted to explore the bay area this summer. But with surprise thousands of dollars in expenses for Middle Child’s medical stuff… that’s not happening. My kids have been asked on a few outings with other people though so they have been doing some exploring.

This is feeling like when I was a kid and everyone around me got to do fun things and I didn’t. I have this baby on me practically all the time.

I’m supposed to act like Noah wearing the baby for a nap is a huge deal. It’s practically fucking Mardi Gras. That’s my big break.

And I’d like to put my head through a window instead of hearing another conversation about video games.

Even when I’m supposed to be the one who gets to go to a movie with the kids… the kids decide it isn’t worth their time to do their chores so we don’t go. When they are going to go with their dad… they get their shit done.

I got fucking season passes to the water park that’s only three miles away. Someone has had diarrhea basically every week… and it hasn’t been me. That’s no one’s fault. But I never get to go because someone else is always feeling bad.

I wrote up my to do list last night because I’m feeling overwhelmed and freaked out trying to keep it all in my head. Very quickly without trying hard I came up with 46 things and most of them are for other people and most of them are going to take hours and most of them need to be done this month.

I’m eating a lot of sugar because I feel like that is the good thing I get to have but sugar is an inflammatory and really it’s just one more way for me to hurt myself because it increases how much pain I am in.

I’m really sad. It doesn’t help that I know I have vacations planned so I feel like I am a stupid fucking bitch for in any way shape or form complaining. I have stuff to look forward to that other people will never be able to have. So I need to shut up about not getting everything I want. How selfish can I be?

I don’t like exercising by myself all the time. But I have to drag/force/make people go with me. So I’m slowing down physically because that process hurts emotionally.

I’m feeling really stupid and pointless and worthless. I don’t want to buckle down and work hard to make all of these things happen for other people. I don’t want to put dozens of hours into other peoples happiness.

I don’t fucking care.

I had a really cool summer planned. Instead of all I planned if I add up all the Skype dates and in person dates I’ll get to have about 27-31ish hours of contact with my friends over the summer.

Oh. That’s why I feel like this.

I’m chatting like fuck! I’m on my damn computer all the time! So I am talking to people… and my elbows are completely thrashed and they burn 24 hours a day. Because either I type at people or I cut myself. That’s where I am. That’s how I can stay in the size and shape of life I’m allowed to have.