Dear Me

My writing hasn’t fallen by the wayside, just my posting of it. I have been able to write just the crazy has snared my time and covered itself up with my anxiety. I have been keeping up with my writer boot camp and will start posting soon. Wednesday was my daughters birthday, Thursday was my husbands along with my other daughter’s spring concert so my hope for staying up to post all the wonderful things I’m starting to learn from the boot camp didn’t happen.

To be honest, with everything going on with my husband losing his job I just wanted to crawl into bed and blanket myself in darkness but my daughter’s choir concert changed that. So here is a writing prompt that I wanted to hit close to home for me and what not to do through bad advice:

Dear Abby,

My husband lost his job and with my anxiety and depression due to C-PTSD I want to sleep all day and not deal with life. My prescriptions only help a little. I want to lash out at him and tell him that we are all screwed because of his stupidity. What should I do?




Dear Gal,

IT is definitely his fault for being fired. He had to do something to get fired. You want to sleep all day, you go right ahead. Just lay around and not think or worry about the world outside of your blanket. Your job will fire you but you can file for unemployment and focus on not doing anything. Let him worry about the kids and dinner and everything that comes with running a house and family. Lashing out at him would motivate him to try harder with the job applications so don’t hold anything back!

For the record I didn’t do anything in the poor advice from fake dear Abby. I haven’t crawled into bed so the physical pain can sink and all motivation lost. I am depressed and sincerely worried for my family. I wonder if I can keep us afloat with my two low paying jobs until he can find another. I didn’t rub anything in his face about it being his fault because he is already beating himself up about it. I know what it’s like being so hard on myself that I cry because in the end I believe that my feelings are true and I’m a failure. It’s painful. I have encouraged him telling him that I believe in him and good luck when he leaves to fill out applications. I tell him that it’s going to be OK even when I can’t believe those words myself. I’m trying to be a loving and supportive wife without falling apart myself.

What kind of advice do you think Dear Abby should have given?

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