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February 12, 2004 : 12:20 p.m.
From 60 to 0 in 4 hrs. 15 mins.


I can feel myself starting to spiral downward again. I wish I could feel good about myself. I wish I could be a better mother.

In the last 4 hours, I slowly slunk backwards into my cave and now I am a soppy wet-faced mess. The day started out good. It's one week from paradise. I got my hair to look really spunky, put on my uber cool pink shirt and pink glam butterfly ring, and even put in my new earrings and put some lip gloss on. It's the most I have done with my appearance in a while. Especially with no reason. In my mirror I look great. Okay, not great, but decent considering I feel like a whale most of the time.

Then I picked up my daughter from Kindergarten and proceeded to see myself in the reflection of the school's glass doors. Yeah, that was a blow to the feeling-good vibe. You see, in my mind when I look in the mirror I am fat, but occassionally I can see past that into seeing myself as kind of cute, at least a little pretty. Today started out as that, and even still, when I look in MY mirror, I think I don't look bad. But then I remember what I saw in the glass doors. I must have a really distorted picture of myself. Most people think they look worse than they really do, I think I must be the opposite. Most of the time I don't think I look all that horrid, even though I know deep inside the reality is that I do.

So anyway, that set some kind of tone for the next hour of my life. I came home to our dog yelping like a banshee because he had gotten his chain twisted so freakishly that he could only move about 2 inches around his tiedown. Then, he proceeded to come in and piss on my carpet and start humping a chair. So I am pissed and hating the dog's little guts. (I know, I am horrible.) I start yelling at Michaela to hurry up and untangle his chain so he can go back out, because I can't handle the pissing, humping loud-ass dog at the moment. It's a pretty nice day so I'm sure he'll be okay. From that point on the tears just started coming, nothing I could do to stop it. It doesn't seem like such a horrible thing maybe, but I felt horrible for yelling at the dog, then at M, and in general just felt horrible about myself.

Plus there's some shit running through my mind right now that I'm too ashamed to even write. It runs through my mind every time I feel like this, which is all-too-frequent recently.

*sigh*

Last Five
The Boys are Back in Town... - April 04, 2008
The End - August 22, 2005
Down Under, and I Don't Mean Australia - July 26, 2005
The Vacation Report, and How I Sympathize with Janet Leigh - July 18, 2005
Looking Forward - May 25, 2005

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