Not an awful weekend. Nothing has really happened. Dad and his woman took my kid out for lunch with them yesterday. We got groceries today. I am avoiding housework like the plague.
No, what is major league suckage is that my brain has been misfiring and sending me wrong messages.
At least I think, they are wrong messages.
Maybe I am dying of a fatal illness. Maybe people are out to get me. Maybe I will be dead in a couple of months or a year.
I like to think I have a grip on things, most of the time, but…When the paranoia seeps in, and my thoughts are skewed…I am never quite sure what is a misfiring brain and what is real.
That makes me sound like I have lost touch with reality but it’s not like that. It’s just…I get these OCD thoughts that consume me and I can;t talk myself out of them and it starts dragging down my mood and the paranoia and possibility for it being real lead to major anxiety attacks, the big ones that not even Xanax can touch.
The only thing that helps- and note I said “helps”, I didn’t say it solves a damn thing- is liquor.
We are not suppose to mix our meds with booze. We all know this.
But when your own mind is your own worst enemy and your brain is sending you messages that scare you so much you just want to jump out of your own skin…Desperation breeds bad ideas.
I am not immune to indulging such bad ideas.
I hate days like this where my mind frame is FUBAR. I spent two years convinced of something concerning my health, and I confided in no one, and it nearly consumed me. There was no convincing my brain otherwise, though. Now, I am right back there again, in that cold dark place where reality and misfiring brain chemicals are consuming me, twisting my thoughts, making me scared and full of self doubt.
Thing is, this NOT my norm. Prior to pregnancy and child birth, I had never had anything like this occur in the course of my long struggle with mental illness.
Something changed drastically. The whole experience changed me physically and mentally.
I would not change a thing, I love my daughter more than life itself.
But I cannot deny that nothing has been the same since, and you expect change with parenthood, but this is more than just change. This is a mutation in a long standing patter with my illnesses.
It is scary. I talk to no one about. In fact, I have barely mentioned it in this blog.
I occasionally tell the shrink about my paranoia and her solution, of course, is anti psychotics.
I can’t hack the side effects, not with as little benefit as they have given me in the past.
So today, I am in a dark place, but I have self medicated and numbed myself so I can ride it out.
No lectures,please. I am just trying to survive here. My choices are mine to live with. God knows the past haunts me every minute of every day. I own my bad choices and bad behavior. All I can do is try to be a better version of me.
It would be so much easier if my own brain wasn’t distorting everything.
At least it’s not constant, it’s intermittent.
Still a bucket of suck.