I don’t know if it is because I am sick. I don’t know if it is because I am tired. I don’t know if it is because I ate too many chocolate chips. I don’t know if it is because it is the week-end.
But I feel so depressed. I feel hopeless and discouraged. I hate myself. And I just want it to be all over.
On the survey, she warns that if you feel suicidal to stop and seek help. Well, I am not planning to kill myself, but I can very much see why she would include such a warning, if the way I am feeling is because of what I thought about and wrote about today on the survey.
I keep telling myself that I am just tired, that I will feel better tomorrow, that somehow things will work out for me. But I also don’t believe myself. I feel like I am such a mess and old and fat and ugly and nobody would ever love me. And I feel stupid for thinking these things and writing these things.
I hate the week-ends. I hate being home with him around.
He’s building a fire so we can roast hot dogs for dinner. I don’t feel like doing that. I don’t even care. My daughter needs dinner, but she will have nothing to do with him, so I will very kindly bring her her hot dogs. I don’t mind doing that for her because I love her very much, but I hate him for putting me in this position.
Anyhow, I have to go wash dishes. Because he doesn’t do dishes. (See post.)