Glad to see the weekend go…

I did not take good care of myself this weekend. Knowing I am not going to see my therapist again for a month gave me carte blanche to self-destruct with no one to notice but myself. When you have the same family members around you day in and day out, they tend to (at least my husband and kids do) not notice much about what I’m doing. Short of dyeing my hair green, they don’t look my way. I drank more than a typical person’s share of white wine in the evenings and bit my fingernails down to stubs. I had ten perfectly short but healthy fingernails and now 7 of them are bit to shit. It was so painful to expose the raw skin underneath that I slept with an antibiotic and band aids on my fingertips. Why the fuck do I do that to myself? I don’t know exactly what the nervousness stemmed from but it quite possibly could be the awareness of my Klonopin medication being so carefully monitored. See my last post for more on that but, suffice it to say, I do not like the idea of habitually taking a “controlled substance.” It’s making me nervous.

I experimented with getting off the drug. Saturday evening I did not take Klonopin and my night was a bit restless with a stomach ache and gas pains but it wasn’t anything too bad. Last night, Sunday, I skipped the dose, too, and I was awake with stomach pains for over 3 hours. Finally, at 4:30 am I took half of my 0.5 dose. I fell back to sleep before having to get up for work 2 hours later. UGH.

Today’s been a rough Monday. I went to work with bitten up nails, sleep deprivation, plus a slight hangover from not being able to resist finishing the open bottle of wine in my fridge last night. I left work early, cancelled all meetings and went straight to bed where I threw a pillow over my head. I slept for 2 hours until I had to get up and take my son to the physical therapist. Then it was time to help the younger son with his homework, make dinner and then go back to work for a few hours to catch up for having left early.

I wasn’t telling the completely truth about my family not noticing me this weekend. My husband did seek out intimacy Sunday morning but I was so mad for getting woken up early that I pretended to sleep through his actions and then fell back into a deep sleep when he was done. I was feeling hung-over from too much wine the night before and I was self-conscious about my fingers. My husband likes to see me touch myself, which I play along with usually but it was embarrassing that 2 fingers had band aids on them. (This is comical in a twisted sort of way and I can laugh at myself!) Although my husband did his thing and I pretty much slept through it, I was awake enough to feel ashamed that I am my own worst enemy. Getting drunk and biting my nails hurts only me. I have got to change my ways.

Tonight I’m going to take the full Klonopin dose because I can feel the stomach pains coming on. I was testing the waters and I see it’s going to be a rough ride. I don’t need to deal with withdrawing from that med right now.

Well, I’m relieved the weekend is over and I can get back on the right track. I need to stop drinking, sleep better and clear my head. One of these weekends I’m going to continue the good progress I keep up all week and go through a weekend without self-destructing. I don’t need to hit rock bottom I need only to want a better life for myself bad enough to make the right changes. Sounds so simple.

2 responses to “Glad to see the weekend go…

  1. Wow I didnt see this coming.
    your poor fingers.
    your poor YOU.
    Your self-esteem must be rock-bottom right now.
    did you bite your nails as a kid?

    • Thanks for responding and showing empathy. I know what you mean about not seeing it coming. I feel like my life is a rollar coaster ride where I do really well for short periods and then do something self-destructive. I gotta figure out why I can’t stay healthy. I did bite my nails as a child and have quit on and off in my life. I wasn’t biting them for a long time and then my nerves got the best of me. I feel kind of scared by what a secret it feels like when I do stupid shit to myself. I am feeling really low and it’s weird to write about all of this in a public way where others can read about it. The fear is similar to the hidden secret of childhood sexual abuse. There’s shame and self-blame. Anyway, I think it’s good I’m tapping into those feelings and recognizing them. We can’t fix what we don’t know is wrong.

Would love a reply

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