Daily Archives: June 25, 2012
Why the grumpy faces? Everyone seems so ..cranky. Except for you over there…yes YOU. You know who you are. You look happy? Ahhh its Monday again. How many Mondays does it take to ..um… Yea I got nowhere to go with that. I was trying to cover up the fact that I jsut realized… … Continue reading
Got a touch of the depression beginning…. Found some news out yesterday… Long story short, I guess my daughter is moving back home sometime…. And while I love my daughter to pieces, I don’t know that I am strong enough to deal with all the drama. I just can’t deal with this today….
Today, I got up. I bummed around the net while my husband stayed in bed with our daughter; if those two had a choice, they would never leave bed. He eventually moved them out, got her milk and banana, and our morning Dr. Peppers. I continued to bum around until he got breakfast, and then I joined them… and then resumed bumming around. They left, I stayed home bumming around, played a bit of LotRO. Of course, this is Monday, so that’s entirely normal for me — I stay home and savour having some time that is all for me, because it makes me a better mother, spouse, and employee.
But knowing that I’ve been, and am, depressed, I’ve made myself go that step beyond to try and reassert ‘real’ normalcy. I bathed — I’m a bit like a 10 year old boy in that regard, and more so when depressed. I know that having clean hair and skin is always a nice thing, but it always feels like a huge, overwhelming burden of a project. But I managed it and am reaping the benefits of feeling fresh, and made myself go that step further — I left the house. I don’t talk about how disinclined I am to do that, but it’s been a fact of life. I’m happy in my own little murky corner, and as introverted as I am, my social needs are very minimal. So boldly striding out the door to go around the corner to pick up a prescription feels like a tiny victory — nobody out there knows that I am discomfited by being in ‘their’ world. I’ve blended in or something.
That isn’t to say I’m incapable of going out and doing things… just that the last time I regularly had to, I lived alone and was drunk more often than not. Perhaps the fact that I have a situation that enables me to cocoon off and take care of myself has caused me to swing too far the other way. This will change soonish, in that my work situation will move me from the comfort of my mother-in-law’s dining room table to an actual office. I’m pleased that we will be restoring her home to a house, but also very nervous about having to work in close quarters to people again. The noise, the smells, the lack of privacy… these definitely contributed to my drunk-as-a-coping-mechanism way of living before I moved here. I am pretty sure that the situation won’t magically ‘toughen me up’; scratching at open wounds isn’t exactly a way to heal and cope.
Anyways, that’s for the future. For today, I can celebrate clean hair, painted nails, and laundry in progress. Counting the little victories – that’s the best way for me to keep myself afloat.
We’re starting to wrap up the Distress Tolerance module, with the last bit coming next week, some new stuff they …
Uh-oh. This is not good. Not good at all.
Last night I didn’t sleep because of the nightmares, one after the other. I’d wake up from one, sigh, go back to sleep and boom, another nasty one right on top of it. I was so tired, though. I wanted to just say the hell with it and get up and drink tea, but I couldn’t wrench free of that thick sea of monster soup. When I finally dragged myself out of bed, exhausted, I was shocked to look in the mirror and see only bags under my eyes and not shiners and lacerations like on Friday night fights.
Now it’s tonight. I was really looking forward to tonight. It was going to be my come-back match, the one where I went sweetly to sleep (courtesy of Seroquel, Ambien, and Ativan, as always), thumbing my nose at the monster contenders in the other corner. Let ‘em stay there and sweat it out, the bastards.
But. It’s now 12:49 a.m. and I am no more sleepy than I was an hour before I took my chemical knockout drops.
Maybe it’s because I have to move out of my apartment but have no place to move into because my new place won’t be ready in time. Could that be it?
Or that in a little over a month I’ll be returning to my home country, my beloved Israel, but knowing that it’s only for a couple of months? I’ve been here in the States for a year and a half, and only very recently stopped having daily violent crying jags from missing my country so. I’m so excited to be going Home, and seeing my friends, walking on The Land, and yes, living with my Beloved….it’s enough to keep anyone awake.
But. I live with the Bipolar monster. So that means I have to S-L-E-E-P in order to stay healthy and not go mental. (You see that I have not even mentioned the possibility of this sleeplessness being the harbinger of a hypomania episode. But. My Psychiatric Service Dog, Noga, has come over and started disrupting my writing behavior by bumping me with her nose-that’s what she does when she sees I’m doing something abnormal, according to her, that is.)
So I will have to take another Seroquel and force myself to sleep. TKO.
Copyright 2012 Laura P. Schulman all rights reserved