Fatigué

Another weekend has come and gone, and has left me in the deep hole of depression. It seems to be coming more often than it used to, this feeling of hopelessness, and I am quickly losing my ability to recover each time.

If I don't spend weekends doing something productive, I spend weekends crying. I try to fill my time as best I can, with parties, visiting DM, playing games with the family, and more recently having a game night with good friends. I had nothing planned Friday night, so I sat here and cried. Why? I don't know.

I feel as though I'm starting to break from reality, and it is scary. I have serious money problems; haven't been able to shower in my own home in two months or more; have no vehicle and wouldn't be able to insure one regardless; bills are piling high around me.

I feel like I am failing my child, between my constant fatigue and sadness, and lack of necessities, and she doesn't deserve it.

All I wanted to do this weekend was sleep. However, I dragged my sorry butt out of bed to take the kids to the swimming pool so that Tristan could attend his friend's birthday party and Montana and I could have some alone time. It was nice, but when we got home, I slept some more.

What kind of parent does that make me? When I postpone Rockband or Uno with Montana because I cannot deal with the conscious life?

I would never do anything to purposely ruin Montana's life, let me be clear. I know it sounds like I am sinking, which I am, and I often wish I had an "out." It would be so easy. But I cherish Montana more than I ever thought humanly possible, and the thought of missing her growing up, and moreso the thought of her growing up without me, keeps me going.

She is my lifesaver, my number one reason for taking a breath each day. I put on my smile and go about my day because I have no choice. I work, for money that doesn't help my family, I take care of the kids and pets, and I try to have a social life. In return, I get disappointment, rejection, and sorrow. I feel like I should be thankful for what I do have, but each day is a reminder of how I am failing, and how I am sinking further into this hole.

I am taking two pills a day, and I am thinking of seeing a shrink. I don't know if it will help, but I really don't know what to do anymore.

I am starting to see that this is my life; single, working mother with no hope for growth or change. I do however, have one hope: That Montana will do much better than I have, that she is happy, healthy, and oblivious to the lump of sadness that is her mother.