No. 395

I've been thinking about what to write for post no. 400. I've been thinking it should be a "State of My State" message. But I'm not sure I'm going to be around for it.

I have a handsome, wonderful husband, with a crappy, debilitating illness. He blames himself for our problems. You know, Man Stuff. Please.

I don't blame him. I put the blame squarely where it belongs: ME. I'm the one who got fired last year. I'm the one who can get to an interview, but not past it. I'm the one who either considers herself too good for a McJob, or more likely, so shy the thought of being around people makes her physically ill.

I just want to crawl into the ground and die. I may be missed but things would be better off without me. Without me the Hubby could get the cheap electric, phone and gas. Or his son could move in with him. I know the M-in-L wouldn't cry much. The only bad thing is my son would probably be devistated.

I want to feel like I make a difference in this world, but I don't. I am NOTHING! And all of our money woes are my fault. I have a job interview this week, one next week, but you know I won't get the job. I'm tired. I'm just sooo tired. I think I need to squirrel away some of the Hubby's generic Xanax. He shouldn't miss it. One ought to be prepared.

And for anybody suggesting that this is just my depression: Yeah, So What?!! Getting help for my depression is just another thing that costs money! Me being a leech!

God! I'm disgusting!