Sometimes I hate myself--and I'm okay with that.

The last few weeks I have been in a really cranky mood and I feel sorry for everyone around me. I honestly do. This includes my husband, friends, co-workers, family members, everyone. I don't think anyone is safe from my wrath when I'm in this mood.

I don't really have an excuse, I've just been bitchy, for lack of a better word. I've been a complete bitch in every sense of the word. I hate getting out of bed in the morning, I hate getting a shower, I hate getting dressed, I hate going to work, I hate working. I hate talking to Antoine, I hate eating, I hate having to figure out what's for dinner, doing the dishes, etc. I know everyone hates doing certain things but at this moment I hate my life. I hate my weight, I hate myself for letting myself get to this point. I don't want to do anything about it. I hate that I don't keep in touch with friends that I love and I don't want to do anything about it at this point. I hate that I don't call family members who don't always have the time or means to call me. It would take 20 minutes on my Saturday to call them.

I hate that I can't have children. I hate that I don't want to spend the time to go to the doctor to take care of myself, even though I am getting old and now is really the time to do that. I hate myself for not taking my medicine like I'm supposed to and I hate that I don't care enough to do it.

I hate my new apartment. I hate cleaning it. I don't want to clean it. I have a living room full of unpacked boxes. I hate everything in them. I hate that I don't have the money to do certain things I want and need to do and I hate that I don't have the drive or ambition to do much more about it.

I hate work and everyone there. I hate that no one knows how to do shit and that I am the go-to person for everyfuckingthing. I hate that I am not strong enough to say 'enough.' I hate that I do not have the willpower to drive past a fast food restaurant, no matter how much good food is at home. I hate that I'll let it go to waste just because I'd rather have french fries & soda. I don't care.

That's my attitude right now and I really don't know what to do about it. Today is better. I told my mom I was sorry for being so snappy this weekend and she told me that she thought that I was mad at her. How could I be mad at her? She has done so much for me in the past few months--scratch that--in my entire life. I hate that I went all weekend acting like a cranky bitch and had my mom thinking that. I'm glad I cleared it up but I still feel like shit about it.