Nothing pushes an anxious, suicidal person over the edge quite like having a spouse who closes the door and says, “I’m tired of listening to your mother,” when your daughter asked why he closed the door. Even in my own home, I’m not wanted or loved or appreciated. And all I did was say that my daughter’s blanket was in her bed. 

It sucks when you’re too exhausted to show yourself compassion, and you’re married to someone who doesn’t think you deserve it. Tonight I walked the dog, cooked dinner, plated out dinner, did the dishes, made a second dinner for my daughter because she was still hungry, and did paperwork. I didn’t get a single thank you from my husband. Instead, I got “I’m tired of listening to [you].” 

I need a yoga class. A yoga class and a bottle of vodka. 

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