Survival of the Fittest?

I had a disheartening revelation today while driving south on State Route 51: if I'd been around in the days when Darwin's theory applied (though some argue it still applies today), I wouldn't have survived. I was a sickly kid, I'm blind as a bat without contacts or glasses, and then there's this mental health issue. This isn't a good thought to ponder when you're already questioning your existence, but it just popped into my head. A lot of my thoughts are like that these days. My thinking is fuzzy because my mind seems to be experiencing some kind of numbing fog, and every now and then there's a moment of clarity, but it's some kind of negative message that makes me wonder why I can't spend the rest of my life in bed.

I woke up this morning and I was irritable. I grumpily got out of bed, but I didn't have much time to be irritated because Alex wanted to play with his cars. He can say "play" now, and he usually says it as he pulls on your hand to get you to sit on the floor. George slept. I feel bad for him because he is facing a lot of stresses without the addition of my problems, so even though I wanted desperately to sleep, I let him sleep while I kept Alex occupied.

Then George left on a mission (to prepare for a big test tomorrow) and I was left alone with Alex, who most likely was just himself. But I felt that he was being naughtier than usual, and I was so irritated with him that I contemplated locking myself in a room to get away from him. When I told George that I'd had this urge, his face practically turned to stone- any threat to Alex, even if it's just perceived- gets this reaction from him. I still wonder how "bad" Alex really was. Maybe I was just so irritable that I picked up on every negative thing? I don't know. But it can't be good for my son to deal with a mom who doesn't think he can do anything wonderful, even if it's only sometimes. When I'm well, Alex is an amazing miracle who is sweet and funny. When I'm not well, he is still that, but it's harder for me to realize. As if I'm not frustrated enough, now I worry that I'm a bad mother, and I'm frustrated that I can't think of one good thing I do for him.

In a rare glimpse of my true self today, I made a funny comment that made George laugh this evening. I can't remember what I said, but I remember laughing, and it felt good.

Rating: 3 (When will the day be a 10 again?)
3 Words: angry, frustrated, irritated