I'm having a bad day. Like, scream at the kid until I burst into tears bad. He is annoying the absolute shit out of me even now, singing the ABCs on the lounge chair while eating a vegemite scroll. Stupid song, stupid messy scroll. Just yesterday I sat in a doctor's office discussing how awesome I am at handling my depression and how I've got this and I don't want any assistance. It's like yesterday I had rose coloured glasses on, and this morning I woke up and some arse hole has hidden them. Yesterday, and for many months before, I have been TOTALLY FINE.
I've been waiting for this day, I knew it was on the way. I wasn't naive enough to think I was just suddenly cured. It's so frustrating to be reminded that I don't have it all under control, and right now is possibly the worst time to try and lean on my husband for support. He is already leaning on me and I've started to gurgle a bit under the water. I just want to scream.
Right now my house is a bomb site. There is a big pot of ravioli in the electric frypan from last night- Rick was already drunk as a skunk when I got home and I was too mad to eat it or put it away. Axel didn't even sleep on sheets last night because the stupid dog pulled them off the line and pissed on them while I was at work. There are approximately 7000 hot wheels cars strewn across the lounge room floor and I'm 90% sure I saw something move on the dining room table.
Fuck today, I'm going back to bed.