Daily Archives: January 25, 2015
Since my interview with NAMI on Thursday about volunteer opportunities I’ve been hypomanic – so easily overstimulated. Hardly got any sleep last night and today I feel wiped out, fried, extra crispy.Filed under: Bipolar Disorder, Hypomania, Mental Health, NAMI, Volunteering
I hate depression. It makes my body ache, my heart ache and my brain ache. I have absolutely no motivation.
I want an ice cream sandwich and hubby said he would get me one after he made his lunch. He suggested that I get it myself as it might make me feel better about eating it. I just whined that I didn’t want to move like a fricken spoiled child. Yet that is the way I feel.
I don’t want to do anything. Not for myself or anyone else. I just want to sulk on the couch. I guess that is better than going back to bed though. I’ve been fighting that for a few hours as well.
We took our dogs out to the house so they could run around, I felt a little joy at their happiness of being able to run around but it didn’t hold on long enough.
i know I eat my emotions, that’s why I’m fat.. Ah screw it, I’m just gonna try and eat until I feel better. Is this an eating disorder? Over eating?
I set out Friday to drive from Ohio to Michigan – about a 3-4 hour drive, depending on traffic.
Five miles out, the Saturn stopped working. Called husband and AAA. Towed to local mechanic. Probably bad clutch.
So we switched my luggage to my husband’s Blazer. About 30-40 miles away from home, car stopped working. Called cell phone emergency road service. Towed to nearest garage. No idea what’s wrong with it, or if the random mechanic is any good.
So my husband picked me up and put my luggage in the back of his ’84 pickup. Halfway home, the radiator blew. I had a meltdown. Called AAA. Towed home. Had pizza delivered.
That’s it on the vehicles. Not even a bicycle left.
Also, there is No Money, except maybe enough to pay the mortgage and health insurance for February.
I have my Abilify, but it hasn’t kicked in yet.
A couple of friends suggested that this was the universe’s way of telling me not to go to Michigan, thereby avoiding something even more heinous that would happen there.
My questions regarding this theory are:
Did the universe really want us both stranded at home, with no way to get to the store or pharmacy, or for that matter, to the other cars?
Did the universe really want Dan to miss more work and lose more pay, especially since he lost nearly a month’s pay going to stay with his mother while she recovered from surgery?
Did the universe really want us to invest yet more money in the cars, when we just bought two of them new wheel bearings?
My answer: No.
The universe is not conspiring against us. This is not divine retribution for a life of sin. This is not bad karma because I was a cannibalistic serial killer in a past life. This was not caused by some higher power that knew I shouldn’t go to Michigan because the place where I was going to stay would spontaneously burst into flames in the middle of the night.
But sometimes it sure feels like it.
I believe there is no larger “because.” Just the fact that we have crappy vehicles and can’t afford the upkeep.
I have no idea what to do, except go to bed, finish having my meltdown, and stay there till the Abilify revs up.
The bumpy ride of the last ten days has left me feeling like my brain has been put through a juice strainer. I am pulpy juicy puree in the membrane.
Yesterday it was raw nerve endings.
Today it is bruised and raw emotions.
Issues with conscience that prior to this point, didn’t bother me in the least because I have my own skewed morality therefore I won’t share the same guilt issues with others. (Example: certain religions find homosexuality a sin yet I disagree so my guilt for being gay would be nil.) (And for the record, I’m not big on labels. I think the term “flexible” describes me best.)
But it’s nothing to do with that. This is emotional morality. There is a fine line between not judging someone and being their friend and letting them manipulate and wound you to suit their needs to the point you’re bleeding.
Where do you draw the line? And if you draw the line, how do you not feel like some ogre for doing so? It makes me doubt the whole love without conditions thing. I love my daughter, but if she attacked me with a chainsaw, my devotion would be from the other side of a prison wall. You just can’t let people chew you up and spit you out emotionally over and over. No matter how much you want to atone for your own past of making bad choices and having others bail you out…
There has to be a line in the sand at some point.
I wasn’t conflicted.
Now I am.
I know who I want to be. But it has nothing to do with who I am.
I want to be emotionally sound, fair, empathetic, compassionate, and yet wise enough not to used or taken advantage of.
Who I am…I’m a mood bitch who gets hurt and holds a grudge for awhile but eventually wants to roll the dice on the chance that humanity isn’t a total loss.
It will be my downfall for life.
Yeah, that’s how I feel today.
And I also had an epiphany last night.
I am doing way better this year than I was at this time last year.
But I am still depressed. It’s the seasonal affect and I try to deny it and make excuses. But every night around five as soon as it gets dark and the temp drops…I become almost anxiety ridden if I do not immediately take to my bedroom and count the minutes until my daughter is asleep so I can climb under the covers. Never mind I don’t go to sleep, just toss and turn and torture myself with stressful thoughts I can’t shut off. It’s a compulsion. It’s an enveloping.
And putting a positive spin on it because you’re no longer spending six day stretches in your pajamas..doesn’t change anything.
I am doing better.
But I was arrogant to think if I just denied it enough I’d be ok. I’m not okay. I am dealing.
And being cyclothymic, I will likely deal even better tomorrow.
My daughter has returned from Sunday school and is brow beating me because everyone apparently wants to know why her mom doesn’t have a job.
I really really want a mouse pad with a bulleye “bang head here” motif.