In the week since going off Trileptal, I have made an amazing return to…well, not mental suckage. My anxiety is down-ish with the Xanax increase. I think the Cymbalta is doing something. I know it’s been a week, blah blah, and psych meds don’t kick in after twenty minutes and do their magic like Tylenol. (Too bad the rest of society can’t grasp this with their “take a happy pill” mentality.)
As much as I am feeling less bleak and hazy…I’m still sort of lost. Most people wake up, get dressed, face the day. I wake up, loll in bed, force myself up and know once I take my morning Cymbalta I will have about an hour of hypomania. Then it’s downhill. I can’t seem to “spring back” into full functioning mode. Ya know, showering regularly even when the weather isn’t sweltering. Dressing properly-bra, undies, clothes I didn’t sleep in. I face everything with this dread in my gut. And if you only knew me, you’d realize that this is a living hell for me. I don’t even have the energy to stop at yard sales and that’s been my thing since I was six years old. I am finding my way back to listening to music in small spurts, but it pisses me off that it has to be in small spurts to avoid setting off my panxiety.
I was looking at my hair and I am almost completely white silver on top. Swear the only part of my hair that grows are the roots and it never lengthens. I keep seeing the box of dye, thinking, I should totally do that, I do so love when my hair is that silky black sheen. The gray roots are soo not me. I should feel ashamed and slothful. I just…I see myself sans make up (the heat makes it melt off so fast, it’s hardly worth the effort) and again…This is not me. I am at least an eyeliner whore. At my best, I go all out and resemble a human being that doesn’t look icky. I look haggard, face puffy and blotchy, and I am starting to look my age. I hate it. Because when I wear make up and do my hair and am not depressive living dead girl…I can pass for ten years younger. It’s like mental illness devours your identity and you become this husk and no matter your desire to break free…It just doesn’t happen until all the stars and moon and sun and meds align. Which for me means…Almost never.
I got a call this morning. I missed an eye doctor appointment. Rather than answer, I let it go to voice mail. Damn it. It’s too hard to juggle everything. Or I’m making excuses because my brain is swiss cheese and even with reminders I can’t keep up. I want to be a super organized person. It’s just apparently not in my genetic make up. I try very hard. Few times I have succeeded. It takes only one slip into depression to make it all come undone. It’s even harder with a kid. But it’s not like I’d ever be an OCD organizer or one of those nazi parents who have coronaries when things aren’t where they should be. Kids are messy. Mom is messy. And Mom’s brain couldn’t organize a coupon book without spotting a bunny or something shiny and forgetting to finish the project. Focalin helps but the mind still meanders.
I need to mail a package off for R. The one that should have gone back weeks ago. He gave me his credit card. Thing is, it’s supposed to go back Fed Ex but it’s in a postal service box. And the asshole at the post office won’t accept the credit card when I come in because my name is not on it and R won’t sign any of his cards as he thinks (and isn’t wrong) it’s a template for forgers. Catch 22 from hell.
Then there’s that desktop computer which claims it’s been upgraded to XP pro from win 98 yet if it won’t come on, I don’t know and I am opposed to reformatting it with Win 8. Yet they didn’t include the XP Pro disc. I think that man is out to drive my insane with all the catch 22’s he throws my way. Friendship is exhausting.
Now…Love/Hate.
LOVE
10- Storms. Thunderstorms, rainstorms, snow storms. Love it. It doesn’t bother me during tornado season that we live in a trailer that could easily be sucked up into a funnel cloud. No, what makes me nervous is my electronics getting fried. It’s a combo love hate thing.
9-Watching kittens play with big cat’s tails. It’s just funny.
8- Avon Skin So Soft. Smells nice, repels bugs. Really.
7- When my kid sees I have a tummy ache and rubs my belly while singing “Soft Kitty.”
6- Start of the new TV season, even though it coincides with the seasonal affect starting.
5- Finding metal covers of pop/rock songs I like
4- McDonald’s Sweet Tea. It’s just yummy.
3- Bic lighters. The full size, not the minis. Just like the way it fits in my hand, right shape, right weight. And they last forever.
2- The smell of mint/menthol. Relaxes me, makes my mood less sucky.
1- Amazon. I don’t order from any other site, really. It’s like my shopping spiritual counterpart.
HATE
10- Doctors. I have always hated physicals and such. I have to be in agony to see a doctor. Pre natal care was awful, having to go in so often for all the invasive exams and tests and having my pee monitored all the time. It just sucks because TV portrays doctors as these kind, empathetic people there to save lives and help patients. Reality is very different. It’s a bummer.
9- Lint. I use the rollers and still go out covered in half a cat.
8- Mayonnaise. It’s just nasty. I won’t touch any food that is mayo based. Which means when lice season hits and we have to slather it on our hair with shower caps for 12 hours…I’m borderline puking the whole time.
7- Anything blueberry or raspberry. Makes me gag just to smell them.
6- People with tattoo sleeves or whole skull tattoos. Sorry if it’s your thing, I just think it looks gross. And I have a tattoo so it’s not some prudish thing. Just…Subtlety isn’t a bad thing when it comes to ink artwork.
5- Strict parents. My kid may be a bit of a hellion, but these parents who have this strict schedule, have their kids signed up for every extracurricular from age 1, don’t allow sugar or pop or french fries and all toys be must be educational…For fuck’s sake, ruin childhood why don’t you.
4- The intrusion of government in parenting decisions. The debate over free range children where people let their kids under age 10 walk down the street to the park alone or whatever even though they know the way due to many practice trips beforehand. The no spanking thing. The coddling thing, seatbelts, helmets, no riding in the front seat, a participating trophy for all. I am all for protecting children. I just think it’s gone too far, considering I survived childhood with no bike helmet, never wearing a seatbelt, riding in the front seat, and going all over town by myself from age 7. Different times but parenting choices should be the parent’s choice. Not the government’s.
3- Mental health stigma. Ignorance can be cured but people are complacent in their need to castigate the mentally ill as somehow lesser than them.
2- Peeing. Yes, peeing. I ponder how much of my life has been wasted with trips to the bathroom and it irks me. I also feel that way about cooking and eating. Give me a meal in a pill and filtration pill so I go pee once a week.
1- Shiny happy people. Rather than their good cheer rubbing off on me, they annoy me. Because I think they’re in denial. There’s nothing negative about admitting bad stuff happens. If you can’t handle that reality, maybe you’re not positive or happy but indeed in denial.
And that’s all she wrote…for now.
