I’ve felt mildly to moderately depressed all day. I laid down for most of the day though I didn’t sleep. I feel like a failure of a mother. I didn’t get up until 10:30am so my son once again helped himself to chips for breakfast. He doesn’t care but I’m afraid he will grow up to hate me for not being normal. Like I did with my mom, and still do. I still have no sympathy for her even though I’m now going through what she went through. I feel like I have to do so much more and I just don’t have the motivation. I’d like to cook real meals but I never do. I’d like to play games with him but I hate playing games. I’d like to take him out but I’m afraid to go places like amusement parks with him on my own. I just wish I could be a better mom. I know the solution is to get out of my self pity and just DO it but it’s so hard.

I’m looking at pictures of my brother and niece and sister in law and I’m so...wistful and jealous. I used to have a great little family, me my husband and my son. We used to be cute like that. We used to go to the beach together. And bipolar stole it all from me. I still believe my bipolar behavior pushed my husband into his drug addiction and ultimately killed him. And now I’m stuck alone with my amazing little boy and I can barely meet his needs. I wish this all hadn’t happened, that I could point to one thing that tripped me off and go back and change it. But I can’t.

Sigh. Enough of my whining.