the other shoe

I have been waiting for the other shoe to drop for ages, I knew it was coming and my increasing anxiety of late let me know it would be soon.Every time the phone rang I would practically jump out of my skin - not only was I afraid of what might be on the other end, but I also worried that if I did pick up the phone, would I be able to sound human and, most importantly, like I had my shit together?

I'd hate to worry anyone.

Turns out all that concern was pointless - I was the other shoe this time. I lost it today on my son, my son who I have had a very hard time liking lately, my son who so perfectly pushes my buttons and whose incessant chatter was like a recording of nails on chalkboard playing continuously.

Our problems are many and too much for me to handle on my own, despite whatever effort I put in. I am relieved to be getting help. I look forward to having my brain work again. I look forward to having someone to talk to about my issues and my family's issues who can help us manage them. Like a modern guardian angel of sorts. And I am willing,once my initial scary-as-all-hell symptoms are under control, to take the time to find someone I mesh with, someone I trust completely and who is able to see past my very thick and competent facade.

Part of me wishes I had asked for help when I first began to see the signs of depression... I wish I had spared my son, especially, from my anxiety, anger and sadness. I hope that the help I get helps me be the mom he needs me to be and soon. I miss our connection - I miss our love (the same could be said of all my current relationships)...

My God, I am so glad for the support of my friends and family. And part of me is still amazed that these friends have stuck by me through my assholian period and through this and then when I asked for help they have practically lined up (okay, we only asked a few people for help - but every single one has come through).

Now - if only I could make myself sleep...