I am so close to cracking it is scary. I have too much responsibility at this particular moment that I have been medicating myself a bit stronger than usual just so I can get through this week. I hate meds, but they do help me focus and calm down so I can function. Besides moving, I have to deal with my son being ill, I took him to the Clinic and he has an infection that requires antibiotics. It’s not serious, and this is only the second time in my son’s life [he’s 7] that he has ever had to take antibiotics, so I am very grateful that I have a very healthy boy.
So, I have to start packing, deal with realtors, deal with the stupid lawyers from the property dispute over the house that I am moving out of, plus the fact that my son needs to stay home from school for at least 3 days. Oh, and there is a parent/teacher conference this week [they have them several times a year]. A very busy week, thank heavens my Mother is here to help with my son. That is how she has been supportive, stuff with my son and just being “Nana”. Emotionally for me, she is not the greatest support, as previously stated she’s “stiff upper lip ” generation, but she is in her mid 70′s so that is the way many people her age are, and I can’t change that, but I am grateful for her help with my son. Now, if I can only keep it together and get us all moved in by this fri-sat I will feel so much better about my ability to actually accomplish things. I have a sneaking suspicion that after we get all moved in & settled that I just might fall into a heap on the floor from stress & exhaustion, but I will try very hard to remind myself that it’s not a given that will happen, only my own paranoia about my illness and it’s effects on my body after stressful situations.
I will not crack, I will not crack, I will not crack. Fuck you Bipolar 1!