Daily Archives: January 23, 2014
I had a bad night. I started doubting everything about myself. My mind was swirling around a million ideas at once, all a million times faster than I could keep up with. I hated myself. I hated everything about my life. I hated that I can’t focus enough to change anything. I couldn’t sleep. I would start crying but then I would stop because I was tired and angry and not in the mood to cry…but then I would start crying again anyway. I was on edge, restless, and completely without a compass to direct me back to level ground. My fiance was off last night but it did no good because I couldn’t articulate a solid sentence of what was wrong. He’s a fixer and he wants to fix what’s wrong when I feel bad. But you just can’t fix this stuff. I did tell him I would like my head cut open so all this crap could drain out. He didn’t approve of that type of fix.
Today, I’m a milder degree of the same. I really don’t feel well, not just mentally, but physically too (damn that time of the month). I want to sleep, but I can’t sleep. I want to relax, but I can’t get rid of all this noise and static and tangled mass of cords in my head. I am just trying to keep my temper under control and give my son what he needs for a good day. No sense in both of us being miserable.
According to the National Institute of Mental Health 90% of Americans use caffeine daily, including, of course, those suffering from mood disorders such as depression and bipolar. Considering the amount
I have survived the business meeting. With the help of my husband and a hell of a lot of spoons.
(If you haven’t heard of “Spoon Theory,” go here and read this. It is a metaphor that helps people understand what life is like for people with “invisible disorders,” including mental illness. http://www.butyoudontlooksick.com/wpress/articles/written-by-christine/the-spoon-theory/
My Competent Business Woman Disguise was augmented with hair color (requiring spoons), mix-and-match options from the thrift store (more spoons), trying to remember everything I might need and put it in my good purse (still more spoons), prepare a small supply of assorted drugs just in case (you guessed it), finding boots and wrestling them on (borrowed husband’s spoons), eating a hot breakfast (again, husband’s spoons), checking out restaurant menu online (reminder: don’t order soup because of hand tremors and literal spoons) and so many other details that I used to take for granted. And that was before I even got to the meeting.
I know I borrowed from today’s spoons as well. And quite likely tomorrow’s too. I may not get more spoons until the weekend. In the meantime, I guess my husband will need to spoon-feed me.
Well whst else are you going to do with the mentally illed?
Leave them on the streets? Put them into shelters? Group homes?
HOW ABOUT HELP THEM?! How about start something where these people can go, get help, get on track, make sure they are doing well, and then release them. HELP! HELP!
The four letter word most people don’t know about when it comes to the mentally illed. It sucks to think that they are sitting in a place, they don’t belong, because society doesn’t know what to do with them..
How can we change this? How can we make this right and bring these people the care they need? UGH!
I have no answers other than… train good people, who REALLY care, and bring them into those jails.
Today is my 41rst birthday. BFD.
Big Fucking Deal.
My kid is fussy sick and spewing on me. Pardon me if my enthusiasm is contained.
I have a cold and I can;t get warm to save my life. I mean, psychotic shivering, it’;s not my norm and it’;s actually disturbing me. Because when I am cold, I shut down and the idea of the next 4 to 6 weeks underr a blanket shivering is as depressing as everything else.
I just…had a bad mental health day. I know, societal brainwashing dictates that once your reproductive organs have produced a spawn, you cease to exist as an individual and your only concern and purpose is to be The Parent. That;’s a crock of shit. Today was evidence. I love my kid madly, I do. But I’m still the same person I was before my uterus served its function and all those feelings bubbled up and over today. I mean, how is being puked on on your birthday not a little irritating? Not her fault, but also not mine. Plus I am in Cymbalta withdrawal (hello brain zaps) so I am on edge and emotional…. Usually I can be The Parent without a whole lot of self absorbed me-me-me-ism. Today was not that day. Today I just felt wmpy and weak and picked on and utterly devoid of any will to keep doing this life bit.
Never mind I got calls from all parental factions, my sister brought me cupcakes, Becca sang to me…No, when your brain chemicals are firing wonkily, not even good things are good. It’s all ass trash.
I’m 41 now.
Big fucking deal.
It’s been a miserable day and I have tried to get over myself but I think it’s just gonna require a brain reboot of sleep. Maybe things will feel differently tomorrow. When I’m not all tearful and feeling irrationally persecuted. Of course, with anti depressant withdrawal, this might be my norm for several weeks.
I’m trying to put a positive spin on that but it ain’t happening. It just sucks.
Maybe that means I have a bad attitude.