I've hit a wall.
Figuratively speaking, of course. I would never actually hit a wall. Not on purpose. But emotionally? Brittany -- meet wall.
I am tired of my life here. Of course, not of my life with my husband. I love him, and I am happy in that respect. But my job? Where we live? The lack of things to do? The petty bullshit that I have to put up with on a day to day basis? I'm over it. I'm tired. I'm exhausted. I am emotionally DRAINED. And while the prozac that my doctor just prescribed to me may help, I don't think it will solve all of my problems.
I want out of here. Unfortunately for us, we are not in the position to just up and move. My husbands job does not allow it, and though we are trying our hardest to find a way, I don't see it happening anytime soon. And THAT is so frustrating. BEYOND WORDS frustrating. Not having a choice in where we want to live, or where we want to be is obnoxious. But unfortunately, the life that we live.
I'm trying, very hard, to reach out to other spouses in the area who go through what we are going through. To find good in where we are. I have a side photography business that I am going to start pimping out again, because I would LOVE to get enough work in the next couple of months to feel like I am accomplishing something. What would be even better would be if I could QUIT my current job and do that full time.
Giving up that guaranteed (& good!) salary is difficult.
So ... I NEED SOMETHING. Anything. To get me through. So the digging begins, and the attempt to BUCK UP & stop wallowing in my pity starts now. Much easier said than done, especially since the prozac takes a couple of weeks to kick in, but I'll get there. I HAVE to get there. This despair that I feel? It's not fun living. Something has got to give.