Anxious

(Warning - long and rambly)

I seem to be a bundle of nerves today and I don't really know why. I guess I'm worried about something.

It could be any number of things. The Terror's misbehaviour has been increasing lately and I'm at a loss as to what else I can do to calm him down and make him listen to us. Daddy is therefore more stressed, and has some work worries about possible relocation as well as the usual traumatic process that is research. We're both on new meds, and overdue a doctor appointment to check up on our progress. I suppose it could be the drugs that are making me nervous - they certainly seem to have killed my appetite and I'm not sleeping as well, but I was oversleeping to start with. I have money worries - one of which admittedly is having too much money and the fear that I'm spending it when I know I'll have to pay it back. We screwed up a declaration of income for the Tax Credit Office and who knows what the outcome of that will be. I haven't heard from the computer shop re my laptop which leads me to suspect I wrote my phone number down wrong (I suppose they already think I'm an idiot, going in shouldn't be too embarrassing). I didn't do any work last week and now I've got a load of marking to do I can't quite face (partly because I'm so jittery).

There's the always present feeling that I'm not doing a good enough job bringing the Terror up, and the fear I'll forget something important for school. There's the guilt about having a wonderful man who's madly in love with me and yet that doesn't stop me feeling that I'm in love with someone else who isn't the slightly bit interested (and I know it won't last, but can't seem to cope all the same). There's other guilt as well, about the selfish things I've done in the past because I couldn't deal with my emotions sensibly and people got hurt. And the guilt about not staying in touch with friends, or talking to my family as much as I should. My mum has cancer again and while I rationalize that the prognosis is good and she will cope fantastically as she always does, it's still a bit too scary for me to fully accept. Mum's very sick and there's nothing I can do except try and be there for her. Other people have problems too, that I wish I could help with somehow but never can. I'm not sure why I think I can sort out other people's lives when I can barely manage my own, but I can't stop myself interfering and trying to fix things, probably because I feel at least partially responsible.

I don't seem to enjoy doing stuff as much as I used to, and whether that's the depression or the drugs or just a phase I don't know, but it makes doing anything difficult as I can't even use a reward as motivation. And yet somehow I have to keep going, struggling on and getting by as best I can. Trying my best to make other people happy, which at least makes me feel a bit better, and at least there's one person I can make happy just by being around. Well, two, I suppose. The Terror's moods never last that long really.

I'm a bit calmer now. Guess it does help to write it all out.