Daily Archives: March 26, 2013

Topped Up (T’was a Momentary Respite)

I was feeling so anxiety jaggy yesterday that I helped myself to one of my remaining 25mg tabs of Seroquel. It’s a holdover from what… the original bipolar diagnosis that got ignored because they lost their paperwork, but a useful one nonetheless. It didn’t knock me out (which was pleasing), but it did make me a bit cloudy. But hey, the edges were soothed down, and that was good. I look forward to getting the proper 50mg long release tabs to add to my other two pills, I do I do I do.

I also remembered that I need to book in to find out what the blood test suggested as relates to the Seroquel and my menstrual cycle. I’m penciled in to see the locum tomorrow, which is sort of a relief. My GP (who I generally like) seems to think that the birth control pill is the answer to everything, and I’m not inclined to agree. If I wanted something to regulate my cycle, I’d want something that made it go away, like the implant or the shot or whatever. But we’re still not sure if we want another kid, so I don’t want to commit to something that works on a scale of years either. So I guess we will see what the blood test suggests. I guess I’m stable enough now that I could risk hormonal birth control without the high probability of going flat-out homicidal (which I always figured to be a very real risk with how unstable my chemicals were before the bipolar diagnosis and the Seroquel). I certainly would prefer to stay on the Seroquel one way or the other, and if birth control is the option I have to consider… *shakes head* Honestly, I don’t think it’s the meds. I think it’s resurgent endometriosis, but misconceptions about the nature of such make it so.freaking.hard to push that case to diagnosis!

Anyways, it’s another juggling act… joy. Hopefully the blood test will give us some clue of where to move next.

<3

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The Scariest Words

“I have faith in you.”

To most, this would seem like a good thing.

For me, those are the scariest 5 words ever uttered to me.

Because while someone else may have faith in me, I have had faith in myself-only to fail myself and others around me-time after time after time. The road to hell is paved with good intentions, and this is never more so true than when you have bipolar and panic disorders going on simultaneously.

R is sending me out tomorrow for an in home call setting up a wifi network. No big deal, right? I set up my home wifi, I set up wifi at the shop last week, it’s not rocket science.

BUT going to an unfamiliar house to interact with an unfamiliar person and an unfamiliar computer set up…

along with the words “I have faith in you…”

The anxiety is astronomical.

I am trying not to think about it but it’s already 8 pm and I can hear that clock ticking like a damn bomb ready to detonate in my head. Tick, tock, the clock does mock.

What if I can’t figure it out? What if the faith R is putting in me and boasting about is outside my skill set? I have had enough of disappointing people. It’s why I stay in my comfort zone. But you never learn anything if you never venture outside of it. It’s kind of a catch 22. I want to succeed and believe in myself and repay those who have faith in me…

Yet I know myself well, and if for whatever reason, I fail…it is going to cripple me emotionally and mentally, as well as reflect poorly on him and the business, as well as impact our friendship.

It’s almost too much stress for my brain to handle.

My mood managed to stay somewhat amenable to reality today, although the hour spent shoveling snow was not to my liking. I did eventually get out…only to get to my mother’s and have to listen to snarky comments about my sister “was up bright and early and got to work on time.” Difference is, I don’t get paid by the hour. Oh, wait, I don’t get paid at all, and I’d already told R last night it was going to take me awhile to get there and he was cool.

But not my mom, nooo, she always has to get her snarky digs in, as if to point out how my sister is superior to me, when we all know she is not. We are different people, neither is superior, we just are who we are. But because my mom has this notion that because I look like my dad and inherited some of his beliefs, then somehow I am his golden child thus she must act as my sister’s cheerleader and point out my failings.

God, family shit is such a bunch of nutsy kookoo.

Went to pick my kid up…and mom sunk her fangs into me again. Because the sweatshirt I layered on top of my kid’s clothes had way too much lint stick stuck to it. Well, it came out of the dryer, so I thought it was clean, excuse me. I was more concerned with keeping my kid warm than looking pretty. She had nice unlinted clothes under the hoodie. Could I do better? Yes. But today was just an off day and I don’t understand why mom has to go so far out of her way to critique me. She even tossed out, “Well, your sister has cats here but she still makes sure all the hair is off our clothes, you can’t send your kid to school that way!”

The happiest day for me will be when I find a preschool for Spook and get her out of that fucking zoo. Then my mom will see us so rarely she will whine about how I never come around because I think I am too good for them. Because, apparently, nothing I do is good enough for my mother and I am getting to the point where I just don’t give a fuck. The woman either has senile dementia or she truly is fucking evil. And I lean toward dementia because she always had a nasty moody streak but she used to be my favorite parent. The last few years, though, whoa. Totally in need of a damn exorcism.

But my dad did call to warn me prior to picking my kid up, cos my sister had had a bad day and called him saying the car window got busted out and he figured mom would find a way to take it out on me. And she did.

Guess it would have stung worse had I not been girding my loins.

Now…I have to try to shut my brain off in preparation for tomorrow. I am trying to be my own cheerleader and remind myself I can do this, no biggie, but…I gotta be honest, when I am under pressure to perform to someone’s expectations, I almost exclusively fail. If I am doing something with zero pressure…I almost exclusively succeed. Speaks volumes, has no real application in reality. Because life is nothing but jumping through flaming hoops trying to meet the expectations of others.

I used to find life so worthwhile and wanted to milk every minute of consciousness I could to enjoy things to the fullest, I hated to sleep, and embraced insomnia.

Now…It has all become such a drain and a pain…I only look forward to sleep.

That and watching vampire shows. That’s always my biggest problem. I can always find some pop culture reason for tying a knot in the end of my rope and hanging on.