Restless Mind Syndrome

My mood is…meh. Not great, not bad. Just…I’m here.
The anxiety is low enough to just be irritating like a clock ticking in the background.

What’s really sucking today is…my mind is restless. I want to DO something. With my brain.Write, read, create. DO something. I tried the get up and move around thing. Floor swept and mopped, dishes done, cat boxes cleaned.
But my brain continues to spasm (like restless leg syndrome) and nothing alleviates it.

The logical answer would be to TRY to do something.

Unless you are a writer, then you don’t realize writer’s block is akin to the chick in Misery hobbling her hostage.
Desire to write has nothing to do with it.
It’s truly a star, sun, moon alignment thing. Kinda like my mental dysfunction.
I want to read. I get a page or two in and my mind is off in so many directions I have to go back and reread things because it didn’t sink in through all the bullshit thoughts.

I want. I want.
But this brain thing is maddening. I’m used to the usual abuses, my mind plays them on an endless loop. “You’re lazy.” “You’re using your mental illness as a cop out.” “You just don’t want to make the effort.”

Which ranks right up there with the shrink who told me I didn’t want to be happy and that’s why the Zoloft wasn’t helping. I am so fucking magical and all powerful I render a medication impotent with my mind alone.

I am so sick of being surrounded by idiots.And that’s not meant to be some “I’m superior” thing. Maybe it’s not idiocy so much as ignorance on their part. But stupid is just kind of perpetual. Ignorance can be helped with a little bit of education. Sadly, no one around me can be bothered. Perhaps expecting them to be bothered is me being unreasonable and demanding.

I mean, if I go buy this idiotic thread from Reddit yesterday where someone with schizophrenia was lamenting how all their old friends had gone away…
And of course, 90% of the helpful replies were all about how people can’t handle another’s mental illness and it’s hard on them and we’re wrong to expect them to deal with it.We essentially drag them down under with us thus they are not bad people for walking away. But ya know, we have an illness we didn’t ask for and don’t control, so we’re the bad people.

This is not to say I don’t acknowledge that my illnesses affect those around me. Perhaps if I were refusing to take meds, see a doctor, or make an effort to get better, then they’d have just cause to abandon ship. You can’t help someone who doesn’t want to help themselves.
But here I am, pumping myself full of all these meds, TRYING desperately to become what I am expected to be.
And the pathetic part is, I don’t want to be anything but stable. I don’t need money, fame, men, blah blah blah. (But a 1973 Pantera would be awesome.) I just want to be stable year round instead of bobbleheading constantly.
If I had singular diagnosis, I’d probably be on a good med and it’d all be under control. But because I have multiple diagnoses and all the meds have to work in concert together and keep working…I am always going over that precipice into almost madness.
Anyone who thinks that’s pleasant or a choice is a dumbass.

So here I am, open weekend before me. Sans constantly complaining child, nothing traumatic is going on.
But my mind is just a swirling vortex of thoughts and I can’t focus and bring any of them to fruition.
And my misanthropy has returned full force after the two weeks of manic episodes (ish.) I remember now that I hate people. I love mankind but I hate people. Or I am just surrounded by people not merely on another page, but in another book entirely, and we’re just not talking about the same thing.
Fuck if I know.
And now my kid has confessed she’s been eating pencil erasers. No wonder she’s feeling unwell.
My question is, since we only have one pencil in the house and it has no eraser…Why hasn’t her teacher noticed she suddenly is using pencils in class with no eraser?
Oh, right, because even when she’s there under their supervision, I am supposed to be psychic and suspect my kid is EATING ERASERS.

Okay, pretzel gut has arrived. I handle stress so gracefully. And it’s totally my choice to process anxiety this way because there is nothing more dignified than running to the bathroom every five minutes with a churning stomach.

I really have to stay away from Reddit. I swear it was that whole thread blaming the mentally ill person for running people off that sent me off into misanthropy rage land. I am soooo sick of hearing how hard it is on those around us.
When the fuck is anyone going to pull their head out of their ass and think, hey, if it’s this bad for me on the outside, what kind of hell must it be for them to have to live with it 24-7?

You ditch a friend who’s mentally ill…You ARE a bad person. Fuck you, Redditors. You all suck.
End rant.
For now.


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