Eh.

Have thought about coming and writing now and then, but haven't bothered because there is just a lot of mushy static in my brain. I just don't care. Anger has started to take over, driving me along a scary cliff road with no rail. It makes me so anxious, holding so much tension in my body that it all spills over. Then the kids get covered in it and the nasty angerpuddle spreads out from there. SO, there is the option to take even more medication or somehow find the energy to "work on" this in therapy. If I ever manage to make another appointment. I like the lady, but I don't feel enough of a connection to actually listen to her advice. It just sounds like what I already know.

Already know and don't do anything about.

Now and then I remember something he had said to me and I want to scream and break things. Like how he always knew what kind of a person I was, what kind of a mother, scaring my children with the demon inside me. What a fucking dick. His shortcomings as a parent and as a person are so much huger than mine, he can go fuck himself. All things are not equal. Some people do suck more than others. At least I try to be a better person. He's saturated with his own indifference and sloth.