Incapable of Fixing

I am more ready than I ever have been, to leave this country and live in my own.
Because of this, I am already half out of it. Half living here, half into everything I do here, half gone.
I am very aware of all things negative. Aware of the things I need to be doing to be better. I am aware of my faults and my lack of effort. I am aware of my awful behaviour towards my partner and sometimes even Zeek.
I know all of these things but I feel incapable of fixing it. Of changing it. I feel like I feel nothing sometimes. I feel a lot sometimes. Weights. I feel that I’m watching the days go by because they are what’s bringing me to the days where I am supposedly more happier and that I’m waiting for that happiness instead of creating it.
I am aware the danger in mistaking Canada as my only source of happiness. As the one thing that is going to cure this. I am aware that once I get there, I may be disspointed. That once life starts back up, that there will be things that surprise me or alter what I think makes me happy.

I have breakdowns every now and then, and after 5 weeks of zero contact with my mother, I called her crying. Everything seems so much sometimes.
And it wasn’t until the phone call that I said aloud that it was the unhappiest I’ve been in a long time. Previous to this call I said I was happy, I just could be happier. But the truth is
that.
That I am unhappy and I feel trapped. I feel stuck because I know of all the things to do and ways to be in order to be happy, but I am unable.
I don’t ever recall feeling this way. Inadequate. Incapable. Being upset with me.
I am not depressed but I feel that this is how depressed people feel. Unable to change the slump they are in. Either a mixture of not wanting to, laziness, hopelessness…
I have a lot. I have someone who loves me, I have money to buy things and places to go for massages and manicures and someone who cleans my house and takes care of Zeek when I want to go out.. i have a pool and an oven, a hammock and a chocolate advent calender.I have so much, yet I am sad.
I am guilty of living this lifestyle and not being happy. I am not content, or satisfied or okay with life here. And because I have already convinced myself of that, living a good thing here, becomes difficult.
It is not fair to Morgan or Zeek, to be in such a state. To be in this dramatic low.

I would like to be better.
I would like to feel that I could try. That there is a space to do so in.
I am tired tired tired all the time.

Being a parent is an on going preparation. There are always things to think for. I must think three hours in advance every single day.
And suddenly, taking a trip to the beach or going out for dinner, becomes a chore. And I recognize that it is so easy for people to plan it. For people to get ready and go.
I had friends here this weekend. And I saw it.
That they had no thought of any of the 18 thoughts that I had.
And I realise that I need to be better at this. Better at going with the flow and not caring so much. But at the same time, planning and being prepared, makes it easier.
Planning is slowly making its way into just how we have to do things now. Because that is part of what being a parent is. That won’t change.
But I guess that I continually feel the stress of thinking myself. Of all the things I need to bring and that if I forget something, it is my fault.

I apoligize for the somewhat repetitive nature of my recent posts.
I’m just stuck.