The Fall

(Written yesterday)

It never ceases to amaze me just how precarious my mind frames are. Oh, the alleged professionals want to call it mood swings but it goes so much beyond that. It’s this all encompassing landscape of the mind. It’s not simply becoming “sad” due to outside stress. It’s this sweeping wave of feeling defeated, depleted, and hopeless. Cyclothymia makes sure it comes on abruptly, generally untriggered, and never lasts more than an hour, ten hours, or a day. (Outside the depressive bouts.) This gives the impression that somehow the disorder is milder than other forms of bipolar. It is not.
I was doing ok. Not over acchieving but…hanging in there. The car is fixed, all is well at this moment…(When R pulled up in the car and I knew she wasn’t FUBAR, I started jumping up and down shrieking, “My baby!” I am way too attached to that car.)
Yet two hours home and suddenly my mood has just slid into “is it bedtime yet”. This happens way too often and I can’t impress enough on the docs just how grueling it is.
It’s one thing to accept misery because it’s all you’ve known.
But to get glimpses of stability, sometimes sheer joy…Then have it yanked away without warning, without trigger…
It fucking sucks.

This morning I told my kid we needed to clean up the yard when we got home.
In current mind frame….Ain’t happening. Maybe tomorrow. GRRRRR. So frustrating. I’ve been trying to fight it. I got up several times, aiming to do this and that. Then drawing a blank. Kinda like a paralysis of the motivation muscle.
Sometimes I think the harder I fight it, the worse it makes it. Because I can’t fix myself with all the tricks the professionals cite that work for a google of others…I get more frustrated and down on myself.
Plus my kid keeps reminding me we’re supposed to clean the yard up. That makes it better. NOT.
I think this is a repeat of last week, Wed or Thurs. I just hit the wall, I was exhausted(no solid sleep for weeks at a time takes a toll) and my mood crashed and I waved the white flag. Kid and mom in bed before 8 p.m. I was up and down but I just accepted that I needed to recharge the batteries. Reboot the brain, so to speak.
It’s feeling like that again.
Maybe the brain is like a computer. You leave it running too many days or weeks, it slows down, gets glitchy, but a reboot makes all normal again.
Ha ha ha. Normal is really not applicable to a multi diagnosis trainwreck like me.
But ya know…Return to half assed lucidity.
Unfortunately it’s not even 5 pm and I still have hours before I can collapse into bed and reboot.
Every minute feels like an eternity.

I said something to the extent that I purposely keep my world small. And it’s true, even if I am TRYING to do as suggested and step outside my comfort zone by putting myself out there. At least on line. I am reaching out, reading other blogs, responding to comments. TRYING.
But it gets hard to keep it all straight and keep up with and then of course come the self doubts…Is this person reading my blog or did they just click follow so I’d visit theirs, follow, and they unfollow me to boost their numbers?
To prove just how naive I am because it’s not something I’d ever do…I didn’t even realize people were that….conniving. And I am paranoid of everyone. So…I guess I just don’t have enough ego to ponder such things.
Still…I feel bad if someone bothers to read my drivel and like or commentl, then I try to do the same but eventually…I know I am going to become so overwhelmed I will fail whether in some small way or large way.
THAT is why I keep my world so small. I take on what I can handle without dropping the ball.

Also…I’m not prone to editing my posts because, well, I am lazy and pressed for time certain days. But I do go back and read them and sometimes…I find that I totally use the wrong word. I intended to use the right one, but something in the background (usually my never silent child) puts a similar word out there and I unconsciously write it instead.
My bad.
It doesn’t make me illiterate or ignorant.
Just…scatteredbrained. Forgive me.

Woe is me…
Yeah, that one gets tossed out a lot when it comes to mental illness (even by those who have it) and it irks me. Because there is nothing wrong with venting your feelings. It’s not self pity. It’s purge and that’s therapeutic.
I throw up physically, it ain’t for attention.
I verbally vomit, tis the same.
Just…uncorking all the pressure in the powder keg.

Flood posting is not my favorite. Yet…when the spewage is there, I just let it loose.
It’s not like anyone has to read it.
But I am compelled to write it. Probably the only thing that keeps my skull from imploding.

Speaking of rereading my own posts…
One I did earlier I spoke of always thinking myself a strong woman.
And I had this flashback to when a guy I’d met during a manic episode saw me hit the depressive abyss. He parted ways by saying, “You’re not who you pretended to be, you’re just weak and all you do is cry.”
People like that need to be fed to anacondas.
It’s not just hurtful, it’s fucking rude. I never pretended to be shit.

Neuroses R Us
Thanks to all the idiotic superstitions my mother instilled in me…
Both my ears are itching and it has me convinced that someone is talking badly about me.
I don’t like it.
Makes me wonder what idiosynchrasy of mine is going to warp my kid.

5:25 pm. Neighbor is hammering on something incessantly.
All I can think, is it bedtime yet?
Which makes me feel pathetic, of course. I make fun of people who “Matlock” ie eat supper at 4 pm., go to bed at 7pm.
Yet here I am, the thing I loathe and never wanted to become.
If there is a worst aspect of mental illness, it is the self loathing.
I want to revive myself, break this mindframe, blow up the freaking box. Feel anything but defeated and useless.
So why are all my efforts rewarded with nothing?
The doctors wonder why people give up, drink, do drugs, harm themselves, kill themselves…
Live like this too long and it becomes all to clear.
But I don’t even have enough motivation to self medicate with booze and drugs nor distract from psychological pain with physical pain.
I should have skipped the tiger tattoo and gone with “LOSER>”
Yeah, I know that’s my stupid misfiring brain talking but at the moment…I’m not strong enough to not buy into the depressive propoganda.

My daughter asked to go play outside. And I said not tonight.
There’s plenty of daytime left, it’s not cold, so why not?
Because crazy mommy’s “spidey sense” has her too paranoid to let the kid out of her sight and too little trust in herself to keep adequate supervision out in the open. Outside the bubble.
So when I am asked how my conditions affect my normal life…
And the scumbag brain ain’t hearing logic right now.

Still awake at 10 p.m. Xanax not killing the racing thoughts. This SUCKS.

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