Last night I reached my limit again. Last straw. 2 pregnancy announcements in 2 days. It sent me over the edge in a week that has me realizing we really, truly may never have the opportunity to try for a sibling for P. Not just because of our financial situation, but because of this fucking mental illness.
I'm screwed. We're screwed. Because I am broken.
I cried for an hour on the bathroom floor, cut my arm pretty badly, and took way too much medication. I had made it just over 3 weeks. And just completely lost it. And then I shaved my head. So, I am bald.
My mother is pissed that J has stayed here a couple days. "We are not a halfway house." They don't realize he has places to go but needed time away. So now I have to kick him out.
All I want is to crawl in bed and stay there.
On top of it, I have to fight the fucking insurance company for one of my medications.
Yesterday was not such a good day. And I definitely feel like shit today in the aftermath. Maybe I'm not okay to be out in the general public. Maybe I should just go back to Horsham. But then I'm giving up. I can't give up. Hubby needs me. P needs me.
I have just shut down. I'm in that place where the pain is so great that it's hard to remember that there are reasons for me to be alive and happy.