Meh Day

Sundays are always so mind numbingly boring for me. “Vegetation” day I call it. But I did the veggie thing yesterday so I felt obligated to fake energy and motivation today. Did all the housework but vacuuming. This includes folding four baskets of laundry.I really don’t know how anyone as broke as we are can have that many fucking clothes.

Bex slept most of the day, but she has trouble sleeping at night without coma drugs so I understand. I don’t abide, because in a depression, the comas become golden and giving in too often makes it harder to pull yourself out of the abyss. Been there, done that, burned the tshirt. But this is her thing, not mine, so I let her sleep.

Surprisingly, my kid and I had few issues other than her not picking up her messes. This ended as soon as Bex returned to the living room. Spook had an audience to perform for and immediately dove into pain in the ass mode. Not a shocker, been that way a long time. Sometimes, I think she hates me and wants to torture me. Other times, I think maybe she’s just become so co dependent on me she lashes out with bad behavior when she feels my attention is divide rather than focused solely on her.
I have NO idea.

Anxiety’s been iffy. I haven’t talked to my dad’s faction all weekend and while on one hand, this is blissful for me…It’s not the norm and my paranoid panic stricken mind wanders to all the horrid things that could have happened. (They could have been murdered, the cats could be eating their corpses right now and if I don’t make an effort to contact them…) But I tried several times yesterday and got nothing. My dad is hauling 7 days a week for harvest which means he’s gonna be tired and bigger prick than usual so I am really not in a hurry to talk to him. Last time I called because I was worried, he yelled at about how he’s just been working hard and he’s exhausted and what the hell do I want from him.
Yeah, paranoid as I may be, verbal evisceration is not my favorite, they will call when they aren’t busy or dead or whatever.

Around 3:30 my mood crashed into the abyss and there was no stressor. I was reading, and then I just felt very down and irate. Thing was, once I ate, the mood lifted the tiniest bit and the headache and nausea went away. It’s weird because I ate off and on all day,I wasn’t starving or even particularly hungry. Yet the food seemed to change everything. I have got to have some sort of hormonal or insulin imbalance. Of course, short of a knife protruding from my skull, I won’t do anything to figure it out. I loathe doctors. I fear doctors. I get panic attacks seeing the shrink and she’s like 90 miles away and on a tv screen.
No,there truly is no end to my neuroses.

Early batcave. Kid finally zonked. I am having hot and cold flashes.My mind is starting to slow down, though. I still feel edgy and anxious (the cable guy was repairing the neighbor’s cable line earlier and I went into sheer panic mode, thinking maybe my payment wasn’t recorded and they were gonna shut my net off.)
The more the temp cools, the earlier it gets dark, as the calendar days tick down…The worse my bucket of crazy gets.
Like I went to get a soda tonight and I chose the smaller store over the one I normally go to. Because it is smaller and not as busy and I am starting to feel uber vulnerable out in public. Like I have a target painted on me and everyone is packing a rifle.
Nuts? Yes.
Can I talk myself out of it?
Seasonal depression is coming, whether I like it or whether it makes my shrink have a bad day.

The best I can do is keep battling myself into a shower, putting on clothes I didn’t sleep in, and doing more than operating like a robot to care my kid.
But that’s how I feel. Automated. I’m doing what I was programmed to do.
Do I want my life to be this way?
Hell to the fucking no.
But it is what it is, and all I can do is play the hand I am dealt.
Not like I haven’t survived a hand of aces and eights many times before.
I just usually pray not to survive.
My mind can be a very dark place when the mental illness becomes sovereign.



5 Responses to “Meh Day”

  1. thank you for your post. My daughter is crowing in the background, while kicking the high chair and I wonder if it is really coming from her or maybe I just hear these things to keep my thoughts at bay. In any case, thanks again for sharing. I will post again tomorrow in spite of thinking I sound like a bitter, negative creature. Your writing resonates with me and I need to do a second read when it is quieter, then read more of your blog… Yesterday was a manic cleaning day, then I crashed in the evening. Yes it is SAD time, I need to go find my happy light, there’s none outside and my dark cloud is following me around inside the house. I even tried to swing manic this morning, replacing floor tiles, but that was a half hearted attempt.

    There are many of us out there. Good luck to you. Maybe caffeine will work today to lift me back to the surface, I am about seven feet under and six feet tall.

    • It never ceases to amaze me how other parents can vent about parenthood frustrations and kids acting up and they’re just being honest. YET someone with mental illness says the exact same things, we are considered “bitter” and “Negative”.
      We are human and our non stick surface is shot so things stick to us rather than slide off like other people. it’s not bitter or negative.
      It’s called reality.

      • I’m calling myself bitter and negative. There’s no one here to do that for me. Unless the voices are real. lol. I wrote a diatribe during most of the weekend then was afraid to post if for fear of sounding like a dive bombing harpy. My reality is that my self esteem only surfaces when I teach. The rest of the time, I’m my worst critic, judgmental, hard on myself and pretty bad company.

        My non stick surface came off years ago so every dish I make is just contaminated with memories, phobias, night terrors and self doubt.

  2. I finally took a bath last night. Sometimes that is an achievement, and I’ll take it.

    Parenting is challenging whether or not you are living and struggling with a mental illness.

    Hope you experience a better than “meh” day soon. Though, “meh” certainly is better than the deepest depression.

  3. During the summer my attitude is “I’m out of bed, I’m showered, I’m dressed, what more do you want from me?”
    Come winter depression and it’s more like, “I’m out of bed, what the hell else do you want from me?”
    No one gets how hard it can be just to bathe or dress or even ya know, get out from under the warm covers.

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