I would like to welcome you back my old friend depression. I thought I had left you behind but now I see you were just waiting to surprise me. Thanks for that. Good thing I finally got an appointment with a therapist. Please hold off on the paralyzing mire until next week when said appointment is scheduled.

I just feel so defeated.

Things my 13 year old said to me this morning while I took him step-by-step through the process of preparing dinner:

13: Do I have to touch the raw chicken with my hands?

Me: No, it will leap into the pot all by itself. You’re just there to watch.

13: Do I put the chicken IN the crockpot?

Me: No, place it AROUND the pot. It cooks better that way.

This may have made my day.

A good friend recently suggested that I may want to resume taking antidepressants.

I’ll give you a minute to let that sink in a bit.

I had thought I was doing well. I had thought that maybe I needed to start therapy again, maybe, possibly. But that coupled with the fact that I think it’s time to find a new therapist… seems a bit, oh I don’t know, overwhelming. I did not think I was anywhere near the antidepressant stage.

This does not give me much confidence in my current state of mind.

I don’t even have time for a haircut. Spring! Sports! No life for you! How am I to make time for therapy? Do I really want to have to start all over explaining my brand of crazy? That just seems so exhausting. After my recent spate of medical doctors and their serious lack of helping me, I have decided to suck it up and ignore any and all physical problems. I keep thinking I should do the same with the crazy. Except the crazy affects the people who live with me. And that is not really fair. GAH! I don’t know. Maybe I’ll just go to bed early tonight and continue to
ignore, ignore, ignore.

• Doctors who do NOT LISTEN to their patients. And then other doctors who tell you to listen to them anyway.
• When people send me a receipt addressed to Mr. & Mrs. First Middle Last Name of husband when it is ME who made a donation to their organization. WTF? He didn’t even WANT to give you people money.
• Bosses who review you and pick some random thing to say you need to improve on. And by random, I mean one of the few things I thought I was doing well. Not the things like spending too much time on the internet and not getting the filing done in a timely manner or dressing too casually. These would be legitimate complaints. Not having good customer service skills is crap.
• The price of gas. $3.94? Seriously? I can’t afford to drive to and from work anymore.
• Children who don’t get ready for school and then blame you when they miss the bus. Need I say more?
• The fact I need to shop at no less than 4 different stores to acquire all the things my household needs. AND everyone complaining that we do not have said things. AND when I ask for suggestions of how I could get the time to actually visit these stores, be told that they have no suggestions. Actually, before being told that a certain spouse had no suggestions he may or may not have just not responded to the question. When pressed, he then gave the answer of “I didn’t respond because I don’t have any suggestions.” So it all falls to me once again. Plan, arrange, acquire, prepare, clean up. Not even a response from anyone. Thanks.
• Coworkers who ask you if you’ve ordered the toner for the printer when it was never made clear that it was your responsibility. And then two minutes later being told that the fax machine has been out of toner for days and why haven’t you replaced it and do we even have any. When you do not use the fax machine and this is the first you’ve heard about the problem.
• My breadmaker broke the second week we had it. I did what they told me to on the phone and now, two months later, nothing. I want my freaking bread maker back.
• People who are applying for a job and insult the people who will be working for him. The same people that have a say in who gets hired. I wish I was making this shit up.
• I lost my favorite pencil. I have no pencil and I have no idea what happened to it. I love office supplies. I may have an unhealthy addiction to them. I know I have an unhealthy affection for my pencil. The pencil I write in my sketch/idea/list/everything book. I need to write in my book and I have no pencil. Grrrr.
• Horrible things are happening in the world and I’m seriously pissed about a whole lot of meaningless shit.

About once a week my mother sends me an e-mail telling me some tidbit about how my youngest cried that morning after I dropped him off. Either he was up to late and was tired or, like today, he wanted to have breakfast with me but didn’t. In just about every case it is because he did not do what he needed to for the task to be accomplished. Of course he never tells her that part. In every instance it is somehow my fault. For example, last night he said he wanted to get up and have breakfast with me this morning. I woke him up at the designated time, he refused to rise, when he finally did emerge from his bed he cried because I was done eating and had even showered. My husband and I tried to wake him approximately 8,724 times.

But the absolute best part of these missives my mother sends me is how she ends each one. “Your children miss you.”

Why thank you for that mom. It is a lovely way to start my day. Crying at my keyboard in the office is a fabulous way to greet students and coworkers.

I have told her how I miss them since going back to work full-time in January. I’ve told her how I’ve been spending MORE time with them. I’ve told her about the things I’ve tried to do to make the time together better (like breakfast with them).

She always assures me she’s not criticizing. She tells me I can’t quit my job, the children will adapt, etc, etc. So why, WHY must she lay on the guilt?