Not a fun few weeks.
This time of year may as well be dubbed 'Hell'. It's a whole lot of time spent being the only adult in the room... which is otherwise ostensibly full of adults, also.
Part of this is the yearly vacation. It's supposed to be a vacation, but it's more an obstacle course of everyone's unique quirks packed into a concentrated space and unable to escape. My quirk is simple: if I'm sitting outside with a cigarette and my phone/the laptop/the tablet, leave me the fuck alone unless I've invited you to join me. That isn't super hard. It also never happens.
I'm chill with an hour or two being left the fuck alone per day. Doesn't even need to be consecutive! I'm down with 15-20 minute chunks through the day! ...but still.
The other three folks have a laundry list, each. And I get to be their adult. As the youngest, nobody listens... but they still expect me to be the adult and magically resolve any and every issue that comes up. I have honest to fucking gods superpowers when it comes to actually accomplishing this, most of which boil down to anticipating the problems and solving them before they can become an issue. That's OK, though, they will be sure to find new issues I never could have dreamed up to have with me, each other, the weather, the food, the room, that the same drive that took an hour and a half yesterday and the day before and the day before that is not magically going to take 35 minutes today just because the Maps app says so, and so on, and I'm expected to magic up solutions to those, too. Usually, I do. Because I have to. If I don't, the screaming starts.
And from the moment we get home, I have to prep for show season, which is like vacation in terms of the issues and resolution methods and personalities, but where my income and reputation and ability to continue to make income going forward is also on the line.
That dead ends at the holidays, which... I'm not a fan. To put it mildly.
The new medication is working. It's helping. I can't say that it isn't. I'm still leagues better than I was four months ago. That said, the depression is coming back hard as I acclimate to it, and I'm no longer in super-bouncy mode, and with the upcoming stress and no real positive outlets available, I'm concerned. "Concerned" generally involves being mindful of staying away from others more than normal, because I'm just not keen on making my issue someone else's.
Unfortunately, a handful of folks in my life have decided it's a fun time to try to deliberately inflict emotional harm for various and sundry (oft-times not even related to me!) reasons for a while now, and it's really starting to leave some marks. I'm very slow to cut people out of my life, typically giving people way more chances than they deserve thanks to being a lifelong doormat, but I've had to do that three times already in the past month over this kind of thing. There's just only so much mean-spirited ugliness, pettiness, and abusive bullshit 'because-I'm-mad-at-something-else' I can take, and I definitely can't handle it right now. (In some cases, it's not stopping anyway, and likely won't.)
It is exhausting. I need a vacation. And not the one we're actually taking, unfortunately.