Just Not Feeling It...

I really don't know what is wrong with me--but something is up. I just feel...blah. All the time. I'm not sure if it's depression or what. I try to shake it off. Especially when people call. But the rest of the time I am in the recliner. Watching TV. Alternating between ignoring my kids and screaming at them. Tonight it was almost 7PM before I remembered that I haven't fed them dinner. Oh gawd. Of course they haven't complained because every time someone whines, I offer a cookie to keep it quiet.

And MP. I simply hate him right now. Maybe hate is too strong a word. I'm not happy. With him. Or me. He is soooo, I dunno. He can sound so hateful when he talks to me--and he says I'm "hearing things" that aren't there. Not, like, REALLY hearing things--but making mountains out of mole hills or something like that. He almost has me convinced too. I swear I want to get a little recorder and record how he talks to me--you wouldn't believe it (unless I am "hearing things"). Take last night for example. Scene: Sitting at the table eating dinner (that *I* cooked). I am in my PJ's (scrub pants and a camisole). I admit I am not looking like a Victoria Secrets model in my jammies but...geez.

MP says: "WHAT do you have on...?"

me: "My night clothes, why?"

MP: "You just look...."

me: "Get over it. It's my pajamas!"

Then Caden starts to fuss and MP says "What's the matter Buddy?" I reply "He is upset because you are mean and say hurtful things to his Mama". He (MP) then goes out on the deck with the other kids...and doesn't notice me in the recliner...Rocking our youngest, tears in my eyes...Wondering HOW did I get here? 17 years with someone who obviously doesn't like OR respect me...And it goes both ways.

I keep telling myself that I am sleep deprived. That I *am* probably a little depressed. That I DO tend to make mountains out of mole hills (that's the depression/anxiety stuff). But then that would make everything MY fault--and we know that can't be true (haha).

So, this afternoon (after MP left to go to work) Carson peed in his pants while sitting in our bed watching cartoons...On MP's side of the bed... Guess what!? I didn't change the sheets--I'll just let Mr. Mean sleep in dried up Toddler Pee--that'll show HIM huh?!

PS: This rates right up there on the Maturity Scale, right there by "shoot the finger at him--behind his back"--but Oh well. (evil laughter)