2001-03-30 - 11:44 a.m.
I question myself to death:
Am I a good enough mom? Do I yell too much? Do I look ugly on this side of my face? Can everyone else see my zits, too? Do I spend enough time with my children? What does he really think? Did she really think that was funny? Do I bore people easily? Am I really smart? Will my children always love me? Will my children kill me one day? Will I live to be 80? Will I live to be thirty? Am I really acting distant? Why do I care? Why do I have to take Synthroid? Why do I have to clean? Are people really listening? How many times out of the day do people consider me to be stupid? Will he live to be fifty? Will he live to be 30? Do I have to meet his family up there? Will they think I'm stupid? When will I die? What will I die of? Will I ever win the lottery? Will I ever be able to save money? Will I ever have the guts to finish writing a book? What kind of car should I get? When will I have enough money to buy it? Are we going to be able to pay this month's rent? Why did I stay with that guy that long? Will this guy really want to be with me forever next year? Do I have to stay with him? Will I go blind and deaf and need false teeth? Will my grandchildren like me? Will I like my grandchildren? Why do I bother? Why do I worry so much? Do I need medication? Will I ever get cancer? Will I ever be talented? Do I have to be here?
