Disgruntled. Disenchanted. Disturbed.

I had a really good week last week. Took everything in stride. Stayed up until a normal time.

This week…well, not so much.

I’ve gone to bed at 7:30 the past two nights. I’m exhausted. I’m sensitive.

Oh, and on Sunday, I prayed to God to die.

Sounds dramatic. Feels dramatic. But, I’m so tired of feeling like I’m not going to get better. On those days, I feel like my family, my students, would be better off without me.

This week has been so bad, I don’t even think my mask is in place as well as it normally is.

I’m angry. Holy fuck, am I angry.

I’m doing everything “right.” I take my meds, go to therapy, exercise 30 minutes a day, eat fairly healthily. Why am I not getting better?!

I don’t really want to die, I just don’t want to live like this anymore. And I don’t know what else to do.

To top off all the struggles I’m currently experiencing with my own mental health, I’m so disenchanted with my job. I’m tired of being disrespected. I wanted to teach to talk about literature and teach themes and ideas, not babysit spoiled children who whine and chafe at rules that are in place because of their own actions and choices.

I’m over all of this.

Hoping this down time ends quickly and I get my feet under me sooner rather than later. I’m not sure how long this can go on…

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