I am aware I have been driving myself down a self-destructive path.
I am aware i am overeating and putting on weight and not only am I not addressing it, i am getting more gluttonous
I am aware that I keep not taking my medication, and every time I think about it, and look at it, I decide against it.
I am aware that I am suffering from depression, but I am no longer addressing it
I am aware that I am a slave to my rage, and I can't control it.
I am aware that I am close to the edge of physically lashing out, and I am not restraining it.
I am not really aware of why.
This weekend has been horrific. Twice I have had a complete screaming, lashing out meltdown in a fashion that I have not had since my late teenage years, and on both occassions the catalyst has been something very minor.
But the meltdowns have been linked: both of them have been due to DD1 giving no ground and not compromising, just as I would have done at her age. Suddenly I see how hard it was for my parents to cope with me growing up; how hard it must have been to have someone so absolutist who had no fear, no sense of compromise, and no matter what will only do what they want to do.
And I have 2 of them.
But my reaction to the minor things was far more than was necessary: slamming doors, screaming, hurling furniture and overturning bins.
If i'm honest, I'm surprised wife hasn't left me.
And maybe thats what I want. Maybe its just time for me to admit that I am not flexible enough, and not able to cope with living in a house with 2 kids with ASD while trying to cope with my own limitations. Maybe I need to be honest enough to say that what I want is absolution from responsibility, but to achieve it i need to become the wretch no-one wants to live with.
I know it seems incredibly selfish - No, not seems: IS incredibly selfish - but I just need time and space away from my kids to get some sense of sanity which I am sadly lacking at the moment.
I have been through the wringer with all of this though. Rage, hate, shame, self-pity, self-loathing, guilt, anger and, once again, those suicidal thought. I stood in the bathroom on saturday after my meltdown, preparing to shave with my cut-throat razor, and i found myself simply standing, naked blade open, feeling its weight in my hand, looking myself in the eye, and feeling that urge that I get to do something I know I should not. I actully had to picture what using it on my own neck would be like and the horrific aftermath for my family, including the permanent mental scarring of my children before I could move on, and simply shave.
And now, looking back at it, I'm scaring myself. Seriously scaring myse;f I may well have scared myself out of this fugue.
God I hope so.
So, where am I now and what would come next?
well, for a start i'm going to make sure i take my pills. they may not make me happy but they certainly don't make me feel this bad.
I am going to try to find rage counselling
I am going to try to find some physical activity to give me a physical release
I am going to try to find a hobby that takes me out of the house and gives me a change just to be me on my own terms, possibly with other people.
Most importantly i am going to be inclredibly thankful for the wonderful, supportive wife I have. Yes, we have had ups and downs, but I don't know if anyone else would have tried to strap-in with me and help me, particularly after my completely aggressive flip out. I am sure she was scared of me in that moment, but she was more concerned than scared and helped me find the way out.