The Whine

Disclaimer: This is a post wherein I whine about my life. If you do not want to hear me whine, please come back another day. That being said, if i can't whine on my own blog, then when can I whine?



For a while there, I was able to cope with life much better than I used to. I used to be a real flake, rolling over belly-up at the first sign of stress in my life. Which is all the time, because you know how stressful adult life is. But after those first three bewildering months of new motherhood, I had a moment of Zen-like acceptance of my life and my coping skills improved dramatically. No money? No problem, things can't get much more destitute than they are so improvement must be on the horizon. No social life? It doesn't matter because now I've got my own self-contained family unit of fun. Complete rejection on the job hunt? Brush it off, I'm a brilliant mind and those bitch-ass potential employers don't know what they're missing. It wasn't all roses and teddy bears, but at least I was on a level emotional ground, and I could roll with the punches.

Now, though? Now, my coping skills have completely fallen away. Life's punches have left me laying on the ground gasping for air. The past ten days, I have been a complete wreck. The worry, the stress, the low self-esteem. I smoke cigarettes like I'm sixteen - which is to say, non-stop. I can't sleep, which makes me even grumpier than I already am. I am completely enveloped in my own stress and too absent-minded to notice the world around me. This morning I shut Ella's fingers in her dresser drawer because I simply did not notice they were there.

And the worst part? All I can do is sit around and think about how shitty it all is. I can't move beyond the thinking into the action required to make things better.

But, on the upside, I'm still showering every day. So there's still that.