I am neither high nor low today. I wouldn’t even say I am in between.
I am. I exist. There’s no joy, no hope, no purpose. I’m here.
An insignificant blip on the radar screen of life.
Sounds melancholy, eh?
One of the “perks” to my hormonal issues. For a few days a month in addition to pain, moodiness, tears, anger, and such, I also get to feel borderline suicidal about how pointless my existence is and how worthless I am. I am grateful it passes and I know it will pass, so I don’t buy into the distorted thought party line.
R didn’t even call me today. Kind of a relief. Of course, he will say it’s because he knew I didn’t feel good. Which has happened every month for 30 years and yet never once before has he said to stay home or actually told me to leave early. No. The truth he will never admit is that he had Kenny there yesterday and today so there was no need for my gloom and doom to be there. If that sounds paranoid or self pitying, I can assure you it’s not. It’s just a theme in my life. People LOVE me when I am happy fun ball. Manic is even better.
But as a real person, with real problems, and unstable emotions…I’m America’s least wanted.
And it’s fine. I hadn’t planned on going in today, anyway. I’ve spent the day home with my kid, nursing cramps and a blah mood and some free floating anxiety I can’t explain. Maybe it’s from all the “I am so worthless” thoughts. I’m not even bothering trying to counter them with positive things about myself. There is no point until the hormones die down. All I can do is ride it out.
Now my mood IS dropping. But at least my kid is fed and bathed before 6 pm. I’ve done minimal house work, but frankly, if they want to arrest me as unfit for not folding laundry, they can go for it. I could do with three squares a day. (Joke.) Seriously, though. We all have our comfort of what level of ‘untidiness’ we can live with. Clothes that are unfolded but clean I can live with. I just can’t seem to push myself to do it right now.
I look forward to bed.
Speaking of which..I’d just taken 25 mg Trazadone last night to help me sleep through the backache and cramps, so I was awake but kind of fading…And there was a knock at 11pm. I almost had a panic attack at the sight of a uniform cop. He asked me if I’d heard or seen anything because a place nearby was burglarized. I told him aside from screaming kids and fireworks I had not heard a thing.
And weirder still is, it gave me panic issues but I still went down for the count quick, and I didn’t even remember the cop’s visit until like 3 om today. It was almost like blackout. One more reason I rarely take the Trazadone.
And as for Seroquel, I am just now starting to NOT walk into walls so no more of that shit. I tell this doctor I have to be lucid and functional for my kid, and still, she gives me this shit that makes me anything but lucid and functional then wonders why I don’t want to take the stuff she prescribes.
Maybe life would be easier if I were in some sort of stupor and just slept all the time.
But I have been there, done that, and I want more now. I want more than that for my kid.
Even if awake mommy isn’t much fun half the time because she’s so low.
Now…off to fret about this incoming low mood, because it could mean the Cymbalta is not working.
If there is nothing to freak out about…
Scumbag brain will CREATE something.