Daily Archives: May 17, 2013
I don’t know whether it’s just the circumstances of this week, but my brain feels nearly completely purged of words. This isn’t ideal when one writes posts for a handful of blogs daily. And yet, I’m not that bothered either — what if it’s the Zoloft/Seroquel combination making a mighty kibosh on intrusive/negative thoughts? I certainly don’t feel bothered by the lack in my head, though I wouldn’t say that I’m disinterested either. I guess I’m treating it tentatively like a bulldozer clearing out the rubble, and laying a fresh foundation for me to build upon.
I’m still feeling a bit crap on the physical side though, as I’m sure the picture probably clearly expresses. I’m not as dizzy today as yesterday, but there’s still a fair amount of woozy. It’s progress, at least, and if the dizzy stays away I’ll be in good shape for the round trip to visit friends tomorrow (ain’t no party like a Eurovision watching party!). My shoulder — had I not mentioned the shoulder? I’m not sure what I did to it, but it’s been painful all week. It’s starting to feel a bit better, which is excellence incarnate. I do heal up pretty quick in the scheme of things, but when it’s something aggravated by existing? A bit harder to adjust for, hee hee.
So then, even if my brain is tentatively losing all the things it normally is saying, it’s still a good calming thing. My body slowly mending is a good thing. Fridays are always a good thing (if one works a normal-ish work week). My family makes me smile by existing, which is always a good thing. I’m feeling better enough to experience emotions like a real girl, and there’s been a lot this week to make me smile and feel grateful for my life.
Anyhoos, I’m going to try to get some work done, and of course, get more blood out of my caffeine stream. I hope that everyone is having an excellent day, with good things planned for the weekend.
It’s 5:14 am. I woke at 2 am. I have swept, vacuumed, put a load of wash in, done dishes…Oh, yes the hypomania is highly useful. Unfortunately, I have had this thing my whole life where for some reason, regardless of amount of sleep or food or whatever, I am extremely nauseous between the hours of 4 am and 6 am. I can’t understand or explain it, but it has been a constant in my life. Which made working early shifts living hell, trying not to barf on everyone. Such lovely pictures my words paint…
Thursday was uneventful. Saw the counselor. She was in good spirits, which meant she was a quarter useful and comforting. Though she seems to think the more I expose myself to panic inducing situations the better it will get. I beg to differ simply because I have been doing it my whole life and it never gets easier. It is always horrible, embarrassing, and even though I know I won’t die, it feels like I will, so you can throw absolute terror into the mix.
Speaking of terror…I unplugged the laptop to vacuum, forgot about it, and it died. For a half hour, I scrambled and panicked trying to get it back up and running and kept getting error messages about how the problem could not be repaired. Talk about a freak out. My entire existence revolves around my kid and this computer. But I let it charge for an hour and it’s back. Now I need to stick to my resolution to back all my stuff up. Some of it is on an external but not all. This morning’s scare drove the point home. I need to do that this weekend.
I want to go back to bed but I tried that and the scumbag brain is not on board. Round and round it goes, being an asshole, and every time I manage to use all my little psych tricks to get it slowed down…It presents some new issue I need to completely obsess about…Irritating. But I gotta be up in two hours anyway, maybe earlier, my kid is my alarm clock and she’s about as consistent as the weather in the midwest has been this year.
I have come to the conclusion…People are jerks. Denial laden self absorbed jerks. I base this on the fact that everyone around me is worried about my mood swings AS IT PERTAINS TO THEM HAVING TO DEAL WITH IT. Otherwise, they could not care less if I want to perform a self appendectomy with a chainsaw AS LONG AS IT DOES NOT IMPACT THEM. I wish this was paranoia or melodrama because the truth sucks. I have people around me. But I am still totally alone. The bipolar sets me so far apart and the people I know are so damned shallow, it’s like I will forever be the square peg trying to fit into a round hole. Which is both cool and depressing. Cool because I have always been non conformist. Depressing because ya know, I could use one good friend who gets that I have a disorder, I do not just switch moods to make people around me uncomfortable.
I tried to talk to R several times this week. He doesn’t care. If anything, he’s using my current bout of mood swings to point out that I am not that different than I used to be, which is why he dumped me. Yeah, because being mentally ill is totally grounds for not standing by someone you claim to love. The excuses and self delusion of the people around me make me want to projectile vomit. I have tried to be understanding. I have tried to atone for my sins. I have tried and tried and changed so many things…But the one thing that bothers everyone the most is the one thing I cannot control.
So alone it shall be, because it is better than kissing their asses. They can’t handle me at my worst, they don’t deserve me at my best. Fuck ‘em.
Now…what to do with this hypomanic energy…God, if I could just feel this way all the time…Not too happy, not too sad, but energetic and motivated.
But the only consistency about mental illness is that even with the consistency of the cycles…It’s all still a clusterfuck.