After the crash

Well, it was a full cyclothymic week. Ran the entire gamut of moods in six days. Steady, lifting, UP, UP, slipping, sliding, SPLAT, inching up, level, irritable, angry, down, SPLAT…

And after a three  hour nap…

I am coming back up again.

Prior to the nap, thanks to getting my curse, and my daughter’s irritating pathological lying little friend Damiana, I was drained. I had cramps today, so of course, like sharks in the water, the kids sensed it would be an excellent time to test me and sass me. NOT wise, little ones. I packed a bite today. More snark and growl than true meanness, but still, it made me feel shitty. And yet, how could I not be pissy when I feel like absolutely crap and all they do is poke the bear?  Plus, I have run the mood gauntlet today, never reaching a manic or even happy or content high, but going from ok, to not okay, to really not okay, to GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME BEFORE I EAT YOUR SOUL! Good times. NOT.

But the nap recharged me and I leapt up and moved furniture to clean the carpet behind the couch. I am not sure why this felt so crucial but it did and I am learning not to argue with my gut. Just like that Damiana. I kept asking myself if I was vilifying her because I am just a bitch. But today she came in and told me my kid wanted a drink, grabbed the cup, and I watched out the window when she went outside and took a sip herself, then handed it to my kid, who didn’t want it. Damiana proceeded to drink it herself. My kid didn’t want a drink, she did. And considering by that point, I’d already given her about five dollars worth of food and drinks, I was kind of irked. I knew that kid was a liar. Still, she is just a kid. A kid with poor manners who left in a snit tonight when I told her she needed to help Spook clean up the mess they’d made.

Devil spawn.

Earlier, I was sitting here, turning over the prospect of having to return to the shop and it just really made me livid. I get my equilibrium back, well sort of, it’s on the edge of a cliff but steady…now I have to go back to that place and it will make everything teeter and fall off the damn cliff. I think tomorrow I will plead cramps. Men usually don’t pry if you plead female stuff. Wussies. Of course, the silent ones are better than the ones who make jokes or actually treat a woman like she should go live in a cave for a few days. I know some real princes.

Gah, what is wrong with me? I am stronger than this.

But I can’t seem to get past this stumbling block. I know the obvious solution is to just remove myself from the vortex of suck that is R and his obsession with busted shit. But if I do, then what? No one will hire me. Not that any jobs are available, not for someone with my history. At least with the shop, I am doing something. Besides, he said it was okay if I just want to come in a couple of days a week. Hopefully he will have the shop ape to amuse him. Because in my current state, he won’t want me around anyway. I am not pleasant during curse week. But then, if a man was in pain and being held hostage by nasty hormones, it would be a different story. Women are bitches, men are just men.

blah. Now my kid has wakened. I will probably be up til 2 am.

But it’s okay. My mood is better, I am calmer. And that demon spawn is not here. I can handle my own spawn. Well, sometimes, when she doesn’t have my in the closet crying “Mommy’s not here!” I’ve actually never done that, but the urge is huge sometimes.


Time to board the cyclothymia train all over again. Who knows, maybe I will cycle upward. I could do with a nice hypo manic spell again. I could live in hypomania forever.

Stupid bipolar two though, nooo, gotta be depressed more than up.

Can’t even have a fun mental disorder.



Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

%d bloggers like this: