Currently coming down from an unexpected bout of hypomania. Folded eight baskets of laundry, cleaned cat boxes, vacuumed, started litter training the kittens, ate supper with my kid, tried to teach my kid some basic spelling…
My God, if only I could have this energy and motivation 90% of the time, I’d be just fine.
Unfortunately, this is the 10% of the time that I don’t see much of. Especially not when medicated.
Today has been a roller coaster ride.
Started out anxious, but determined, in spite of the cold gloomy weather and seriously painful cramps. Went to fix that wifi. Got nothing accomplished because the woman sat beside me the whole time yapping. I can’t focus when being watched. I simply can’t. Once she left, I had it fixed in a half hour. I do not work well under scrutiny, period.
That was a momentary high.
Which crashed into a rather sudden depressed “fuck this” mood in which I wanted to throttle R for no apparent reason, followed by a sensation of weepiness and wanting a hug yet also not wanting anyone near me or to even look at me.
The cramps persisted in spite of ibuprofen.
The mood continued to decline until around 4pm.
By then, all I could focus on was getting my kid, coming home, doing minimal housework, and once we were both fed, go to bed.
But then I got hit with a manic spell. It was just “Oh, hey, you have cramps, your back hurts, you’re tired and cranky…Now would be a great time to do housework and run around like a chicken with its head cut off!”
Thank you, scumbag brain, and fuck you, stupid hormones.
All day spent in a haze, moods swinging left and right, emotional surges at every turn, no energy, no ambition…AND BAM!!!!! Hypomania, probably the first bout I have had in several weeks. Not happiness, not a good mood, but a productive energetic burst. Now it is beginning to wane. My bed is not calling just yet, but it will be soon.
I’m drained. The damn roller coaster ride is the blessed hell ride.
I feel relieved that I won’t have to rummage through eight baskets looking for clean underwear, though.
I still haven’t done the dishes,but last I checked a few bowls and silverware didn’t constitute living in a hovel. I will deal with it tomorrow. The weekend is always my breathing time. No one making demands of me other than kid and cats. Nothing really to do other than errands, at my leisure. I can definitely do with a dose of that, considering it’s been two weekends in a row of being invaded by holidays and family and neighbor kids.
The last two days of cold and rain have ensured no visitors for Spook. Thankfully for me. Is that terrible? Is it such a bad thing to admit you have limitations? Would it be better to grin and bear it and bottle it all up until it boils over? I see so many people do that. I have lived with people who do that. It’s not healthy. And it’s not a sin to need some “me” time or admit you’ve hit the wall, you need some space.
I just remembered I see sunshine spewer tomorrow. We have had so many good sessions in a row…I am fearing the worst. She always knows when I am on the edge and those are the days her empathy seems to be on vacation. And at this moment, I am close to the edge. It has been stress overload. People overload.
SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO fucking sick of people assuming you’re fine as long as you’re out of bed, fairly well kept, and functioning. I’m walking a fine line today. I once again got hit with the wave of panic realizing I am responsible for another human. I mean, I am SOLELY responsible. When I had her, I had a partner, or so I had thought. It never really hit me that I alone was responsible for her every need. Even the last year and half of him being gone, I’ve just been so busy trying to get better, trying to be this super functional “get a job, you’re all cured” person everyone wants me to be. No time to reflect.
But these days, I am reflecting plenty. And it’s scary, for that moment, when I feel the weight of it all crushing me. Kid, cats, helping R, learning the certification stuff, keeping the house clean, the car fluids checked, the yard maintained…EGAD!
It’s all on me.
And I do okay. Not great, but okay.
My biggest fear is the complacency of thinking “Oh, I am doing well, I’ve got this now.”
Because every time I have thought that before….Mr. Bipolar stomps in and reminds me it doesn’t work that way.
Now…I am gonna hug a kitten ‘cos it’s good therapy.
And hope tomorrow I don’t have all those mood fluctuations telling me to smash in someone’s head all the while wanting a hug. That’s just too fucking disconcerting.