One More Day

Tomorrow, I finally go see the psychiatrist.

I spent money to get something to eat for breakfast, so I’m $10 short on the co-pay. I hope husband has $10 I can borrow. But I can’t ask. Maybe he’ll read this.

Yesterday, we got in a fight. Because he doesn’t understand. I feel so alone. I keep fighting to tell him what’s going on and I feel like I’m always just pushed aside.

After I picked up the kids, I could hear him upset and rumbling in my head. He still doesn’t understand how loud it can get.

Most the night was quiet though. I don’t know why. Probably because I told him more. And, now, he’s intentionally staying quieter in my head? I don’t know.

I feel like none of this matters anyhow. Like I should just keep my mouth shut and move forward. It always gets better on its own. I just need more sleep, less stress, and to focus on other things. There is nothing wrong. Just a strong imagination and a pretty toxic inner monologue that keeps me on my toes. That’s all. It was screaming at me to throw the remote last night. Saying I would feel better. Just to throw it. I could see it hit the wall and break and in my head I felt better. But I didn’t do it. And, now I wish I had. I think it would have been better. I think I would just get it out of my system.

I keep getting flashes. Flashes of light and color. And, now opaque overlays. Like it will flash and the room is covered in blood – all over the walls. It’s messy and old and abandoned. It’s the same room I’m in, but different. And, then, it’s over. So quickly. Just a flash. This is happening more each day. It’s the same as before.


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