I hated myself today. I asked my daughter what had happened about the potential holiday her boyfriend's parents had suggested, in Italy. She said they're going for a week, parents are paying for the accommodation, daughter and boyfriend will have to pay transport. As they're students, funds are limited, so this means they can't come with me on holiday to Cornwall in September, as we'd planned, but not booked.
Despite knowing perfectly well that she'd be daft to turn down a 'free' holiday, that she would prefer a holiday with me, that the idea of a holiday with me only came up when I found a cottage that was cheap but had two bedrooms, so asked if they'd be interested in coming as well, despite knowing the sense of it all, I still felt abandoned, unwanted, and thoroughly upset.
Once she heard me crying, she came to find out why, told me I was silly, and ended up crying herself because I was making her feel guilty. She finally stamped upstairs saying she'd got work to do - so I felt worse because my stupidity is now affecting her A level revision.
I found a friend on Messenger and talked it through. I just needed a bit of sympathy. Then wrote a note on a spiral of paper, apologising, and saying it was a timey-wimey thing (if you don't watch Doctor Who, then you really should, and you'd understand!), and put it on her desk. She returned it, with her reply. So we've 'made up'. I've been researching train and plane fares for her. Looked at a few possible places for me to go.
But it's still upsetting me, and I'm having to hide it. Like I've done all my life - put on a mask and be what other people expect, try to do whatever makes everyone else happy.
I hate depression.