I am at the airport, which seems to be my second home this week. This part of my job is hard as I am supposed to be cheery and welcoming to my new visitors and help them get comfortable in their new surroundings.
But all I want to do is curl up in a ball in bed and sleep until these awful withdrawal symptoms go away. The doctor hasn’t called back, but I have a feeling that he’ll tell me I just need to power through and be strong. I hope it’s worth it. The Klonopin seems to be helping, but the sucking dark hole feeling isn’t going away.
My husband continues to be supportive, but I can’t help but think if I’m giving him too much to handle. Plus, my stepdaughter leaves on Friday to go to her biological mother’s house for a few weeks. I’ll miss her terribly, and I feel guilty that I have not been able to spend more time with her. I just hugged her last night and repeated that I love her and told her I think of her as my daughter. That’s as much as I can do right now. That guilt is overwhelming.
I got a reprieve again last night because of my mental state. My husband, God bless him, is learning when I can’t handle discipline because of my mental disorder. I asked him for the reprieve, and he agreed. Maybe as the submissive I shouldn’t have approached him about it, but I felt like I would fall apart if there was a discipline session and it wouldn’t do its job. I’m going to try my hardest to agree to it tonight.
Psalm 34:18–“The LORD is near to the brokenhearted and saves the crushed in spirit.”