I am just so done with depression and anxiety and how little people understand, even when they've been through it themselves. Nobody's experience is the same. I can't pretend to know that I understand what you've gone through. I can sympathize, but I don't know.
Parenting is really hard right now. I laid in bed for about 10 minutes listening to Matthew calling for me to open up the gate. Finally he was like, "Mommy, ew!" and I knew I had to get up because I couldn't leave him in a poopy diaper. If someone else could've taken care of it, I would've continued to lay in bed.
I had a hard night last night. I tried talking to my mom, but even she couldn't get me through it. Normally my mom can get me through anything. But the tears just kept flowing. I'm so tired of feeling like I'm not good enough, like I'm a rotten mother, like I'm a fatty, like nothing I do will ever compare up to what other people do. I've given up on everything.
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