up down all around

Yesterday I was minimally functional. Didn’t get dressed, didnt leave, didn’t bathe. Took care of my kid and cats. It dipped down to negative four degrees overnight, ensuring my safe enclosure in my mountain of blankets in bed. The clincher for this day of misery was when my kid crawled into my bed and puked on me. Awesome. Motherhood is glamorous.

This morning I did not want to get up. The kid dictated otherwise. But I sprang into action because we were out of everything and it was direct deposit day. Dug the car out of the snow, ran errand after errand, paid bill after bill. Blah. Mood was okay. Anxiety was off the charts. Traffic does not work for me.

They make a big fuss out of the hazard of talking on a cell phone while driving. I think texting while driving is the true danger, but phones can be too. BUT if they really want to avoid a severe hazard…They should ban driving with children in the car. Half of my driving stress is caused within the car because my kid never shuts up and never stops making demands without regard to the fact I am driving. I understand she is just a kid. I still think installing a mute button on her isn’t a bad idea for the safety of my driving.

My mood dipped a little but not too much. It’s more up tonight than it’s been in weeks, which is a good thing. I’ll take it. Functional is good. I did dishes, laundry (even folded it!), vacuumed (well attempted to clean the floor, I have no vacuum), I wiped counters….I even cooked supper. I bathed. Aside from my hands being cold, I am pretty content right now. My kid has dozed off, bringing me silence, sans the show I am watching. I can breathe, I can think.

I wish I could just stay in this frame of mind all the time. I am not needy or greedy, all I ask for is functional and not praying for death.

The moment of shame today was at the pharmacy. When they rang up EIGHT bottles of psych meds in front of everyone. Of course, no one but the employees know they are psych meds, but still, 8 bottles of pills is enough to scream I AM NOT WELL. It bugs me. Mind you, I am on two different strengths of Lamictal and Lithium so that accounts for four bottles. I just wish I didn’t need them. My proudest time was when I was pregnant and opened the cabinet, faced only with taking one prenatal vitamin. No pharmacy of anti crazy pills.

Except I’m not crazy, I’m troubled, which makes the illness even less legitimate in society’s eyes. I don’t hear voices, I don’t hallucinate, I can tell right from wrong and dress myself and I take care of a kid and cats. I don’t have dignity of being full blown insane. I am ‘unstable’. Such a comforting label to be saddled with, like I’m a step from grabbing a rifle and jumping into a clocktower. I have a mood disorder. Which to society says “She’s too weak to suck it up and pull herself up by the boot straps and get over herself.”

For the most part, I don’t care what people think about my clothes, my style, my likes, my dislikes, where I live, what I drive. But when your existence revolves around people giving you a chance for a job, relationship, outing- you become concerned with what they think. Because one misconception or biased opinion can sink your goals even if you or your illness don’t.

So much ass trash.

The neighbors had maintenance over most of the day fixing something outside. The noise had me on high paranoia and anxiety. Nothing to do with me but the sound of the truck, them getting in and out, walking through my yard to access the neighbor’s pipes…Argghhh. There’s a common misconception that “if you have nothing to hide, you have nothing to fear.” That;s bullshit when your brain is sending the wrong signals. It’s not about hiding something. It’s about fearing the invasion of your safe space. It’s about deviation freaking you out. It’s about being so sensitive to noise that abnormal sounds create panic.

My dad asked me the other day why I sleep “so late” (7 a.m.) but go to bed so early (10pm ish) because I don’t work. Well, considering how little he did towards raising his own kids I guess it makes sense he doesn’t get it. Kids are exhausting. They are needy and demanding and require lots of energy. I’d love to return to my former life of sleeping all day and staying up all night. This daywalker thing blows. But my kid comes first, it’s as simple as that, and also simple is, she taps me out. If I don’t sleep at night, it won’t happen during the day. So my dad thinking I get too much sleep…I earn it. I spawned a battery bunny and she is a cruel master. Who projectile vomits on me.

Depression, anxiety, and vomit. Why wouldn’t I feel happy go lucky? :p

So..Decent mood, good functionality, but high anxiety today.


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