What comes around....

I believe in Kharma. Have for a long time. Even before suicidal ideation was a part of my vocabulary. What I believe Kharma to be anyway, which is basically that what comes around goes around. I know that isn't really it, but let's just go with that for now.

There was a time I thought depression was a lot of B.S. I knew mental illness was real, but mental illness was schizophrenia, anti-social personality disorder, things like that. Depression was just people feeling sad and being lazy. Now I'm involved with a person that has that same outlook. See how that works? Kharma. Or irony. Whichever.

My S.O. is pretty much a homebody, just like I am now. Not like I used to be. But like I am now that I don't like people anymore. In all fairness, it's hard to like something that gives you panic attacks and causes you to behave like an irrational fool in public. He is a homebody, but he has kids. That means school concerts and sporting events. One of which is tomorrow. I love his kids. Whenever I think I can manage it, I medicate myself and attend as many functions as possible. The problem is, SO doesn't understand what it takes for me to leave the house, let alone enter a packed auditorium. If I don't go, I'm the evil *itch that only cares about herself and I am treated to grown man pouting and the silent treatment. Tomorrow we not only have 2 games, but it is our turn to work the concession stand before the 2 games and I have to bring baked goods to sell at the concession stand. I wonder if crushed Xanax looks anything like powdered sugar?