Today, I am many things, none of them too nice.  Today I am fat.  I weigh 285 pounds. Today, I have high cholesterol. Today, I have Bipolar Disorder II and PTSD.  Today, I am angry.  I’ve been angry most of my life.  Today, I am resentful… and guilty for feeling resentful. Today, I am trapped and crowded and overwhelmed.  Today, I am exhausted.  I work two jobs and run back and forth between helping out at one house to helping out at the other house 2 hours away.  Today, like every day for the last couple months, I feel unwell. Today, I want to slit my wrists rather than continue to feel all of these things. Today, I have come very close to running away.

But tomorrow could be better.

That’s the biggest lesson I’ve learned, and the one that keeps me hanging around when I really don’t want to.  Tomorrow is a promissory note from the Universe that there’s always a chance for things to change.  This was a lesson I had to learn over years of pain and anxiety and bad choices.

And I am working today to help all these things so that tomorrow has a chance of being better.

Today, I am fat.  But a little over a week ago I joined Weight Watchers and have already lost nearly five pounds.

Today, I have BPD II and PTSD.  But three years ago, I made the decision to get help, so I have medication that makes it easier for the world to deal with me… and for me to deal with the world.  So, today is just a breakthrough day where my emotions are stronger than my medication.  I have faith that with some self-care tomorrow will be better.

Today, I am angry.  I had a brief respite from my anger when I lived in Nebraska, so I know it can be overcome.  I just have to identify all the sources and spent time working out the answers.  And I have to be brave enough to confront the sources.  So, it’s going to take time.  But there’s always tomorrow.

Today, I am resentful.. and guilty because of my resentment.  I am held hostage to my financial situation.  I am held hostage by my home life, at both homes.  My relationship has changed in ways that cause stress and resentment because of factors beyond both our controls.. which is what brings in the guilt.  Nothing that has happened could have been prevented, and the way it has changed things is the way it has to.  But that doesn’t change the fact that I most heartily resent the hell out of the fact that I don’t come first anymore, or even sometimes.  And that I’m not the princess anymore, I’m the stress relief and part time nurse.  And I feel guilty for every bit of that. For every complaint, for every bit of stress I add to the situation, for every time I ask for something or need something or even voice an opinion on any of it. Between the resentment and guilt I’m losing my mind.  But tomorrow, there might be more help.  Or tomorrow, we might do something that will relieve the weight a little. Or tomorrow, I might get brave enough to tell someone how I feel.

Today, I am trapped and crowded and overwhelmed.  I have no time to myself, no place I can go where I can relax and not have people breathing in my space, or wanting my attention, or needing my time. If I am at one house, the constant need to entertain invades even my bedroom when I am dressing or trying to fall asleep.  If I am at the other house, there is no space for alone time with five people in the house.  I don’t have the ability to travel, or anyone that wants / can travel with me.  My need for motion is thwarted and I have no space, time, or energy. But I’ve had it before, and with some dedication and work, I can have it again.  I will have my own space again someday.   I will put my gypsy feet back on the road on some future tomorrow.

Today, even after 10 hours of sleep, I am exhausted.  I am out of reserves and running on fumes. Between the two jobs I need to keep me afloat financially, I have no time to give either of them my full attention.  I feel stretched from pillar to post.  But I keep moving forward, telling myself that tomorrow might be the day I get it all back together.

Today, I am unwell.  Because of my exhaustion, my emotional rollercoaster, my anger, my bad sleep habits and my bad eating habits, my body is suffering.  I haven’t felt “right” in months, and it’s causing more damage in the areas of sleep, exhaustion, emotional stability, etc.  All these things are interconnected. If my sleep is off, my sugar is off.  If my sugar is off, my exhaustion kicks in.  If my exhaustion kicks in, then my emotional roller coaster gets started up. Round and Round.  I have faith, though, that if I can fix one area, the others will slowly calm down.  So again, tomorrow is my hope.

Today, I want to slit my wrists to end all the other pain.  This is not my first rodeo with suicide.  Before my daughter was born, I tried several times to kill myself.  Since her birth, my need to protect her has kept me from trying, but not from wanting.  Yearning, really.  There are days, sometimes weeks, when I cry all day from the frustration of needing it all to end and knowing I can’t cause her the sort of pain and trauma that ending it would cause.  But that’s today.  I’m old enough, and far enough down this road of mental illness to know that tomorrow, or a few tomorrows from now, I will feel better.  And that helps a lot.

Today, I have come very close to running away.  I have looked at driving to Galveston, to Freeport, to Philadelphia, to Oregon.  I have priced flights to Costa Rica for my birthday (only $300 round trip!!!), and cruises to Cancun.  I have considered going home to get my tent and backpack and just disappearing into the woods for a week or so.. which would solve my job problem, I think.  For my entire adult life, I’ve never lived anywhere for more than four years at a time.  And other than my daughter, I’ve never lived with someone for more than four years at a time.  We are coming up on the anniversary for both of those milestones, and the pressure from everything else I’m feeling is causing me to nearly crack under the need to run.  But maybe tomorrow I can get out.  Maybe tomorrow I will drive to the beach and renew my soul.  Tomorrow has promise.