I’m at a loss to explain my current dark mental space but it is disconcerting to say the least. The free floating anxiety, bits of paranoia, (had to steel myself just to check the mail box, jump every time there’s a phone alert or knock on the door) and just feeling hopeless and down in general. Perhaps I just had too much interaction with others yesterday after the trip to town and melting down in traffic (I swear everything moves so fast in town, it’s like I’ve forgotten how to properly drive and my brain simply can’t keep up with all the motion thus throwing me into a panic and meltdown) and of course, I had a brief interaction with dad’s entire faction and he said a couple of things that irked me because hey, I am 45 years old, mind your own damn business, old man. It’s like, if my mood is too low, he says I am glaring and grumpy, but if my mood is ‘up’ then obviously, I must be drunk or on something. And his inability to grasp bipolar ups and downs and hypomanic bouts isn’t my problem, it’s his.
Grrr. I don’t like the ‘come downs’ after you have a good mental space or hypo bursts. I especially hate the aftermath of too much ‘people-ing’.
It’s just going to be a bad mental juju day and best I can do is get through it. I’m getting a little break for now as Spook went with her uncle, some bike riding and sharpening mower blade redneck hootenany, IDK. She spent the whole morning fussing that her belly hurt and she felt nauseous, then he shows up and miraculously she feels better. I let it be her choice though I am wondering if that was a good mom move. Being out in heat and humidity when you’re already feeling icky isn’t a wise choice. But it’s pick my battles to avoid drama so for better or worse, she made the choice so she couldn’t have been too direly ill. When I don’t feel well, the last thing I want is to be around people and be active. Maybe people-ing is her therapy, Idk.
I just want this day to be over with so I can seek solace in sleep. Getting up in the mornings is getting harder and harder and it’s usually not like that during summer *if* the meds are working properly. Winter, sure, snooze button psychosis is my norm. Summer I usually wake up feeling decent and want to get up. Laying in bed awake an hour after waking…this is an anomaly. I was just hit with so much anxiety and tight chested rising panic, I guess lolling in bed was my way of working through it without making my kid witness how wonky mom is today. And there’s always that eternal hope thing that hey maybe I can fall back to sleep and wake up in a better frame of mind.
On a final note…I am so thankful for pharmacists because with my numeric dyslexia, I’d prbably get the wrong medication and die. I was reading off the RX numbers and one of them came up under someone else’s name and it was because I got the last 4 numbers all mixed up-looking right at the damn bottle. Numbers have become my nemesis. I have little problem misreading words, but numbers get all mixed up and it’s like swiss cheese has replace the part of my brain that deals with number sequences. Not an excuse, but this is a very real daily struggle for me and it could have dire consequences. It also means pretty much all work I have a background in is not feasible should I ever reach the magical stable point. If I can’t read off a 7 digit number accurately, I’m never going to be able to work a cash register or order stock or any of the things I am trained for.
I’d like to blame my current med regime or stress but the numeric dyslexia has been a huge problem for many years now. It lead to a great deal of frustration when dealing with R and often getting number sequences wrong so the wrong part was ordered. He basically accused me of doing it on purpose, being a flake, being lazy.
I wish that was true, then I could fix the problem. Unfortunately, once your brain becomes swiss cheese, it ceases to be something you can fix and becomes something you just have to deal with and pray doesn’t result in some catastrophic event. Like getting the wrong prescription. Hats off to pharmacists for keeping me from hurting myself inadvertently with my numeric dyslexia.