I'm forcing myself to do this
I don't want to be here spewing my guts out, but here I am. I want to be in bed. Today was a panic-stricken day. I go between two extremes: worrying that I'm not spending enough time with my son while doing too much housework and worrying that I'm spending too much time with him and not getting anything done around the house. So, I sit there waffling back and forth doing neither and hating myself for it. I call myself a worthless father and a do-nothing husband. I feel like I have nothing to show for my effort in either direction.
I keep making lists and then ignoring them. If I do things on the list, I feel like I'm neglecting my kids. If I don't do them, I feel like I'm letting my house fall apart.
I just want to relax. Why is that so hard for me? I'm on all kinds of medication, shouldn't that do the trick? The extra anti-psychotic drug is working well, but I still have some circular thinking that gets me trapped. And now the extra meds have a side-effect too! It feels like someone is pulling on the left side of my neck. It is as if I have a stiff neck after sleeping in a strange position, except it's in the middle of the day.
And why do I have to feel so goddamn tired all the time? I might have gotten work done around here if I had any pep! I always want to be asleep! All I have the strength for is to worry!
This period of not listening to mommy and daddy is scraping at the back of my skull. It's as if someone named the Terrible Twos as a sadistic joke, knowing full well that the threes are the terrible phase; at least it is for my three-year-old.
He constantly parrots back whatever I've just said, only in its opposite form. "No I DON'T have to do potty time now!" "It's NOT time to read books and go to bed!" "Smashing my cars together IS very nice!" I'm sure all kids go through the same type of growing pain, but It's making me want to throw myself down a flight of stairs, while on fire, in a barrel, with my skin peeled off, and acid rubbed all over my body.
I'm going to bed.