It’s started to happen, the telltale signs are adding up to major impairments in my daily functioning and health. It’s always like this. Tis why a couple months back when R proposed this whole “help me with the shop and I’ll buy you a car thing” I wrote the post called “I’ve Got This…til I don’t.” And let me tell you, we are closer to the don’t than do part now.
It’s only been a couple of months, less than twenty hours out of my entire week, really mind numbing technically low level stress stuff. I could pretty much do it asleep and for no more business than there is, I actually could likely sleep most days. And yet…my stress and anxiety level, as usual, are taking a toll on my physical health, my sleep, everything.
Monday just the thought of returning to dish time had me throwing up with anxiety. Last night I abruptly woke in the middle of the night and spent four hours running to the bathroom with stomach issues, and it was nearly alarm time when I finally did get back to sleep, still in stomach churning agony.
It’s not the flu. It’s not my meds. It’s not even a newsflash. It’s like this every single time I try to “work” and interact in the dish. I start to melt down and crumble. If you’ve never had a truly bad stress stomach ache, lucky you. This is misery.
And trying to deal with being a single mom with an issue laden child is not making my quest to be what society expects me to be less agonizing. i’ve done some major soul searching, not to mention every known “you are a weak loser, grow up” self bullying speech and it all boils down to the same thing it always has, the same thing that landed me on disability in the first place.
They stopped giving E for effort a long time ago so it feels like it’s all for nothing. I am burning myself out, once again feeling trapped in subpar mental health care, making do with a medication that actually has some pretty freaky side effects I hadn’t noticed til I ran out and missed a couple of doses due to being broke. I had no idea psych meds could mimick the sensation of dandruff and head lice. My scalp actually feels…normal. I once again got caught up in my own desperate desire and need to take whatever anti depressant combo kept me upright, side effects be damned.
Trintellix did pretty well during summer. I wasn’t dancing in the street but I was feeling much stronger and functional. But even with the doseage increases, it’s not been enough to ward off the seasonal affect depression and none of the 28-ish anti depressants I’ve ever been on has done an iota toward helping with anxiety and panic.
To have to admit one more med has failed to withstand seasonal affect, before the worst has even started, annoys me and frustrates me. But then, being up half the night with a nervous stomach and physical symptoms from sheer stress and anxiety mortifies me. If I had a physical ailment that had triggers and I ignored them and put myself in pain, people would call me a moron. Yet because my ailments are mental, I am supposed to run myself into the ground, a psych ward, or death, and for what? To make ignorant society more comfortable because they lack the emotional intelligence to distinguish between someone being lazy and someone being incapacitated by their disorders?
I don’t have any answers today. I think R is coming by tonight to look at the dryer again, and frankly, company is the last thing I want to endure. I’d be fine with a nap while my kid is at church as opposed to pasting on a stilted smile and excusing myself to the bathroom every ten minutes, doubled over in pain. I’d think I had a major illness if this hadn’t happened so many times before, always in response to trying to live in the petri dish. Thousands of dollars of tests multiple times to be told I have a nervous stomach and need to keep my stress level low. Unfortunately, the doctors did not write that R/X to be given to the idget world around me.
I’m going to keep toughing it out, but I haven’t had a solid night’s sleep in so long, I am amazed I haven’t gone insane. I even tripled my melatonin to 10 mg like nurse doc said and it doesn’t keep me down. I don’t know how long anyone is expected to stay afloat on little restful sleep, constant physical symptoms of anxiety, unsupportive people making more and more demands of you…That’d be a stretch even for someone with no mental illness, money problems, or children. Or maybe I am just this weak. IDK.
Fuck that. I am anything but weak. Hear me now, Borg society; I WILL NOT BE ASSIMILATED. Mental illness is as grueling as any physical illness so fuck your collective mentality.