i have good days where life is perfect an things are great, i have bad days where i have a headache before the end of it and im cranky. like most people i have good days and bad days, but like most damaged people, i get one other kind of day I call those the ugly days. No i don’t mean physically ugly days i mean emotionally ugly ugly days. These days come n a few different versions, for lack of a better term. yet i always have the same empty useless feeling behind them, today its the i have no motivation don’t want to get out of bed do minimal things with my always excited beautiful little boy who has no idea why moms no fun and crying and falling asleep on him on and off threw out the day. these days we take an early nap and eat lunch in front of the t.v and don’t leave the house i don’t even play with him. i feel empty alone and almost unresponsive to everything other then crying. i feel like my mother i watched my MOTHER do those things and hated her hated her so much everyday was like that everyday was tiptoeing not to wake her sleeping or angry or depressed all the time HATING that she wasn’t like other moms we never went out she never got dresses or cleaned or played or for what i could see cared. i hate myself hate what im doing how i feel yet its still there.
then there are the other days the hatred the angry the worthless days, something little sets me off someting stupid but that matters to me i feel like it doesnt seem to mater to anyone else and then im upsett and angry and irratinal so much so i threaten to leave my husbad over a dirty bathroom or a plant in the wrong spot it surfaces tons and tons of past fights it makes me want to leave during the whole thing i feel guilty and bad yet it keeps pooring out of me like its well thought out and planed and im mean and hurtful im better at being mean then anyone i have EVER knows and that kills me it hurts to know im so mean. yet im compelled to be that person all to often
those ugly days summed up sound horrible yet have no real meaning and have no real texture even reading them back to myself i know that they don’t capture what i mean, i could sit here all night and attempt to lay it out over and over but i don’t know if ill find words to tell anyone the level of low or the level of hatred and worthlessness i reach. the good days get smaller and more spaced and the bad days more frequent and the ugly days keep reappearing and keep pulling and tugging at me and keep happening no matter what i change some people are ugly, some people are so ugly inside there is really no other way to say it.