Raining down on me
For all the world to see
Gifts and blessings
And life’s lessons
So much to learn
How I yearn
It’s time to earn
My place in the sky
Questions, I ask why
How do I make an impact
First I must act
Not sure what to do
It must fit like a shoe
Maybe if I’m just me
Allowed to just be
That’s all I will need
Speak my heart til I bleed
Posted in Read Along
We’re all winners! Continuing to try to do stuff when life bowls you over is winning, even when it doesn’t …
Posted in Read Along
It’s 2:07 am. I woke up at 1:30 am. Thought I’d just go back to sleep. WRONG. Scumbag brain decided now would be an excellent time to dwell on all the things stressing me out right now and into the emotional cyclone I went. Anxiety. Panic. Paranoia. Fear. Leading to an onslaught of other worries and emotions. Swirling in my head, causing my entire state of mind to spin.
AWESOME.
Dysfunctional is such a subjective term.
I mean, I get out of bed, I take care of my kid, I do what needs to be done. That’s functional, right? And everyone has stress and gets the swirling thought thing in the middle of the night.
I think what makes my uber dysfunctional is the way my brain processes these normal aspects of life that others don’t dwell on too much. And I chastise myself and I attempt to use the little therapy tricks to alter my perception and reaction. The brain is not on board though.
I was reading an article the other day where they did a study showing that psychopaths have an “empathy switch” that they can turn off and on.
I think that’s a crock. Yes, the science in the experiment showed that the empathy area of the brain lit up when it was supposed to. But who’s to say they weren’t feeling empathy for themselves by imaging themselves in their victim’s shoes?
This thinking is, as far as I am concerned, dangerous. Because it will be said if a psychopath can flick a switch and feel something that for years it was thought they were incapable of…Well, you get my drift here. Soon the on/off switch will apply to mental illnesses like bipolar. Because bipolar and all it entails just improves the quality of our lives so much we live the switch in the on position.
I digress.
I am pretty sure going to bed at 9pm completely exhausted from something as simple as school registration is a level of dysfunction. There’s no way that should have put me in the mind space I was in. Judging from the patterns I have watched emerge over the years if I am in a depressive state, and a bunch of stressors are dumped on me, it makes the depressive state worse. Which makes my dysfunction worse. ie; waking up in the middle of the night with my thoughts spinning and the panic monster nipping at my heels over things I can’t control.
Next week my mom is hosting a party for Spook;s birthday. Three days later I am having one here. Then on the 16th is the home visit. After that school starts for Spook. Round and round it all goes in my brain because it is all so stressful for me. Though in all honesty i am less freaked about the prospect of having 10 kids for a party than dealing with a home visit or school functions. And I think it goes back to being in control. I do not do well being at the mercy of others.
And it hits me, that my kid is going on the school system treadmill and this level of stress is now going to be my life for 14 years.
I can’t think of a way to get jazzed about that.
Now thanks to reading a stupid article, I am going to begin flogging myself daily for not being able to find the on off switch for all this panic.
I really do need to turn on the parental controls for myself and visit nothing that isn’t mindless neopet games. Because reading the news and all this other stuff just contributes to the delinquency of a mental illness.
I am the queen of dysfunction.
Still waiting for my damned crown, though.
Posted in Read Along
Typically, I work 10-12 hour shifts at my day job, as well as do my freelance work on my “days off”, evenings, or weekends. This doesn’t always allow for time to finish topics I want to cover, or really much of anything except squeezing in some downtime to decompress and maybe some laundry on a really productive day. My field is physically, mentally, emotionally and intellectually demanding. Combine that with painful spinal issues, regular insomnia and trying to keep my mental health in check and well, I’m exhausted.
So back to my mental healthcare clinic…
I can be in that waiting room anywhere from 30 minutes to 3 hours. It’s busy, buzzing, often loud and I quietly observe while waiting for my name to be called. The atmosphere is thick and concentrated with varying degrees of mental illness and instability. A Police Officer is on location and sits in a small office overlooking the lobby. I cannot help but feel disassociated from all of this, like I’m waiting for myself outside the doors downstairs and I’m holding my breath until I’m back out into “the real world.”
At this point, my visits to see my shrink seem almost a formality to continue receiving my medications. Sometimes, we don’t even discuss medications outside of “everything’s the same.” He trusts me and I am honest with him. We’ve worked together to find the best cocktail of medications I can remain functional on over the years. I went through several Dr’s before I found one who would really work with me on not being over medicated, yet address the complexities of my particular set of symptoms, as well as medications I take for some other health issues. You don’t often find that in a clinic like mine. Blah blah blah we all know finding a good Dr and a good med cocktail can take years.
The pharmacy is there as well, in the same area as the lobby. Each time the Pharmacy Tech hands over a bag of 5 medications, just for my mental health issues, I wonder how in the fuck I do function sometimes… I can’t wait to get outside and get back into myself.
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