(Cowboy Bebop OST – Rain (lyrics))
Whelp, if you weren’t depressed before, you probably are after listening to that song. Sorry about that, sort of. It popped into my head and I felt it was apt to my mood and state of being. Okay, maybe I’m not outwardly doom and gloom, but everything under the surface is rather drowned. And that statement feels too dramatic on the whole, so once again, there’s a disconnect on trying to explain feelings into words. It’s not something I feel exceptionally talented in either, considering I only figured out how to say even the simplest ‘Good’ or ‘Bad’ until I was into my 20s. The roots of that stunting lie in ye olde parental blame, so we’ll just move right along for now.
For the most part, I’m just sitting here trying to keep my mind empty, except for one little mantra. As a friend on Google+ reminded me last night — to take small steps, and all the mindfulness that comes with trying to balance self-care against the annoyance of still being all sorts of housebound. The level of frustration is high enough that part of me very much wishes to dive into le booze and ignore all the self-preservation… but those are fleeting thoughts that are fairly easily quashed.
So then, that is to say — I feel horrible. I probably wouldn’t come across as such if you were sitting here talking to me; my sense of humor is mainly intact, and I’m currently engaged in activities of a hobby-based nature. But again, outward appearances lied — I’m cored, body and mind. Everything is sluggish and non-functional — I have no idea how I managing to make words sort of form sentences here. Poor me, etc. *poses dramatically*
So yeah… no idea if I’m actually going to manage to make anything happen besides a drool pile on my desk, and a few stitches in my current knit square. Small steps and whatnot — if I can see a small productive step to make, then perhaps I’ll give it a go. At least, for what it’s worth, I’ve managed at least this today, so that’s worth micro-celebrating.
I hope everyone is having a better braining day than me!
The post (In the) Rain appeared first on The Scarlet B.
My brain is semi-quiet, though that’s also in part to high levels of noise in the household. Which, to be fair, only has to be a single person talking and the tv on. Will my brain make it through? Hopefully, seeing how one of the noise sources is specifically for me and my nostalgic brain.
The post Nothing to Report appeared first on A Blog By Any Other Name....
Things are rather peaceful around yon homestead today. My head is still feeling foul (somewhere between a sinus and tension headache… if not both), but the little one is in good enough spirits that the noise levels are at a minimum (which means she shrieks the second I type that line, oh delightful irony!).
Really though, just sort of hunkering down and tending to the bodily complaints. If it’s not the brain getting at me, it’s t’other! But I suspect that’s just part of getting older, ’cause it gives us all something to shake tiny impotent fists at. Which is definitely what I’m doing, ’cause headaches are lame.
The post Quiet appeared first on A Blog By Any Other Name....
Posted in Read Along
Tagged home, life, me
I haven’t done a Weekly Photo Challenge since being Freshly Pressed – keeping up with comments and continuing to write …
Continue reading »
Posted in Read Along
Today is delightfully quiet thus far. While my little one is still feeling a bit crap, she’s not been screaming and flailing as much, which I am grateful for. She’s taking a little rest now, so my husband and I are enjoying the companionable quiet that is our preferred state (the TV is on as background noise, but it’s not an annoyance). Except for my shoulders refusing to unhunch, this seems to me an ideal picture of relaxing. Well, and the feel in my head that there might be another migraine forming, but that’s not a surprise based on having had one a few days ago.
So yes, for now? I’m going to try to get my shoulders to try and cooperate. I’m going to drink lots of water. And above all, I’m going to enjoy my weekend. I hope everyone else is doing the same.
The post Blessed Quiet appeared first on A Blog By Any Other Name....
We have a day free of our lovely daughter — hooray! She’s a good kid, but I think most parents would agree that having some time to themselves is essential to sanity. In our case though, I’d say this is most essential to my husband — he’s the one that carries the weight of the family on his shoulders (where as, we all know, I already have a day every week to myself to ensure I can keep myself in good knick. And of course, this comes at the end of a very trying week for us all, so all the better for the timing goodness.
I can’t think of anything else in particular to add at this moment… so I won’t. Suffices to say that I’m grateful to be back to a place of semi-stability. I still don’t trust it to last, but yanno… that’s just life with bipolar.
Circumstances dictated that me and the little one are chilling out at home, so that’s what we’re doing. The only thing of particular interest in that is my enjoyment of the fact I can do this without being guaranteed to end up screaming and crying from the stress of having to deal with a small person’s needs. That is definitely in part to her advancing age, but also in part to having a better basis for stability inside myself. We’re both sort of doing our own thing together, much like myself and her father have always done since living together. Oh, there’s still interaction and snuggles and chatting, but it’s pretty much the introvert’s dream — we all get to have our own bubbles, but we just happen to put our bubbles near to each other. It’s a pretty kick-ass way to live, I tend to think.
*eyes child* Of course, as soon as I say this, she gets fractious… such is life, right? But that’s so much more tolerable when the little people can half-assedly articulate their issues, however relevant they may or may not be. Like her insistence that she’s chasing the cats off because they’re eating her jammies when they most certainly are not — that one will always make me laugh.
Anyways, back to that, and hopefully a few more little person cuddles as well.
I think I’m having a slight hypomanic patch, which leaves me in a conundrum. Do I try to do things, or do I hunker down and try to avoid being annoyed (difficult at best) so I don’t risk overdoing it? Neither option is exactly ideal, but I think… I think… I’ll try to do some things, if I can. I’ve got my crochet on my desk. I’ve got my Word doc with my poor neglected NaNoWriMo story in it. There’s also a basket of laundry that is calling me, and is probably the starting place. I will consider it a victory of a day if I manage the laundry, methinks.
I was talking to a good friend last night, and I was relaying to her my specific issues with exercise. This time of year, we all have lots of friends who mistake losing weight for getting healthy, and I was hitting a fed up point watching otherwise intelligent people spewing bullshit at each other to ‘support’ each other in disordered eating and exercise regimes they will never keep. Now, I’m wiggly and move quite a bit; this is probably tied to probable ADHD. It’s always been problematic because people assume that means I am energetic when I absolutely never am. I’m sort of like a laboratory frog being electrocuted; I keep dancing ’cause there’s random currents jagging through, but they’re not of actual use or durability. So we start with a baseline of no real energy or spoons, a loathing of all forms of traditional exercise, and severe obsessive-compulsive issues when it comes to trying to maintain anything resembling exercise. I’ll fixate on counting up calories burned and how long I’m doing it and will push very hard for that lovely endorphin high… and injure myself in pretty short order. Even if I do manage to keep a routine going for more than a few weeks, my hatred of the concept of exercise negates any endorphins that might be garnered, and makes me dislike something I might otherwise like doing. And because I will push myself to the point of injury no matter what I mean to do, that means recoup time, which means mega-crash. It’s just absolutely not worth it, ever. I do try to sneak in a few sit-ups and maybe a minute or two on the bike when I can, but that’s about all I can do without risking harm to myself. Joy!
But yeah, the long and the short of it is that all my chemicals are wonky, har har har. And it’s becoming increasingly obvious that my probable endometriosis is on the rise again, and that adds several wrenches to the works. Another of my friends commented to me that my physical ailments of yesterday sounded like Irritable Bowel Syndrome, to which I had to point out that endo is frequently misdiagnosed as such due to similar gastrointestinal issues. So while it was painful and obnoxious, it’s another arrow in my bow. Maybe, if I can get that looked at and treated (it requires laparoscopy to diagnose//treat), that will help me get better stability. The joys of both body and brain being spiteful, right?
Right, babble off, attempt at laundry victory on.
One of the things that many people don’t think about when it comes to bipolar is those living with those who have bipolar. Yes, I know many of y’all find me and my ilk annoying because we don’t conform neatly to societal norms, but you can ignore us and go on your way. People like my husband, however, can not.
As I’ve noted, I’ve not been doing that great this month. It has nothing to do with holidays (I love ‘em), or the short days (I love ‘em) — it’s just luck of the crappy draw. And my husband is a very sensitive and caring person who has lots of empathy for my day-to-day suffering, and it of COURSE has an effect on him, no matter how much I try to keep it in my own little bubble. And one of the joyful *snark* side effects of having no energy for anything whatsoever is that it is very hard to give my care-giving partner the recognition and support he needs. I do what I can in words and hugs and trying to complete chores as I find the ability to, but it doesn’t change the fact that he selflessly tries to hold his hurts and feels back from me so that they don’t complicate the already chaotic mess that is my default state. Then I add to it without meaning to, and it’s a bit of a mess all the way around.
That isn’t to say that we normally have problems — I think we both try really hard to take care of each other to the best of our abilities. It just means that sometimes we both run out of strength because we are both human. We had a little momentary incident this morning, but it passed and hopefully we’ll be able to gather our spoons and soldier onward. It’s just hard when we don’t know how long the not great times are going to last, yanno?
Anyways, I am completely wiped by dint of existing, so I’m going to go hunker down until I need to bake. It’s my daughter’s birthday today, and I’d be remiss if I didn’t make something sweet for her!
Home is where the heart is - Home is where you hang your hat Home is where no matter who you are and what you have done, you are always welcome back Home is where the cooking always tastes the best Home is where we regain strength when weary and needing a rest Home is … Continue reading