loathsome

A lot of times, I feel as though I waste my time or that I am a waste of time.

“Why am I not doing that? Why did I do this when I could have done that?”

I could be a better father.

I could be a better husband.

Because I could be better means that I am not good enough.

If I could be better, I should be better; If I should be better and I am not, then I’m screwing up.

I feel insufficient and insecure.

I project that onto my loved ones, probably not as much as I think…but I do.

I yell, but not as much as I used to.

I get angry at my son, and that makes me feel guilty.

He’s autistic and sometimes I don’t give him enough slack.

He yells, I yell back.

I ask him to do something, and he yells at me and/or calls me names…more often than not I take it personally.

I feel weak.

When I read or work, I feel guilty. (I don’t work that much; it’s been slow.)

When I am tired, it is not always obvious to me that I need to go to bed.

I’ll watch a movie or research.

I have felt apathetic a lot lately, almost to the point where I need to remind myself to breathe.

I feel sad a lot.

I am on anti-anxiety medication and am in therapy.

I went from seeing my therapist from once a moth to once a week because I told psychiatrist about my apathy.

I lash out at my wife with sarcasm.

I have also opened up to her and stopped holding her responsible for our lack of communication…

I’m just communicating.

I have been listening to death/dark metal a lot.

I have also been listening to classical music.

Techno or electro rock, too.

I listen to anything that is loud and repetitious or sporadic and chaotic.

I make intermittent and random noises sometimes when things make me uncomfortable and awkward, such as thoughts or memories.

I love to watch horror movies if I am angry.

Sometimes I shut out my kids and my wife.  Sometimes I run to them.

Sometimes I want to run away from myself.

Today, I told my wife that I don’t feel happiness like normal people.

I have been spontaneously crying at nothing a lot lately.

Sometimes, I am afraid to go outside or come into contact with anyone.

I indignantly point out to myself what other people are doing wrong.

I am scared of pretty much everything and everyone.

I hate talking on the phone to people.

Large crowds make me nervous.

One day, I am so happy that nothing can go wrong,

The next, I’ll shit on your doorstep for looking at me.

January 16, 2012 | Categories: depression, mental health, poetry, Writing | Tags: anxiety medication, depression, electro rock, feel happiness, horror movies, lack of communication, mental health, music techno, poetry, writing | Leave a comment