Whack A Mole

Whack A Mole.
That’s what a multiple diagnosis in mental health is. Exactly.
No sooner than the bipolar stabilizes, the anxiety amps up. The focus gets fixed, anxiety comes down, oh no the depression has popped in for a visit.
No matter how many moles you whack…They just keep popping back up. Except this isn’t the fun kind of whack a mole.

One of the most frustrating things with my multitude of dysfunction is…I will agree to do something and at the time, it seems cool. But then a mood shift hits and suddenly following through on my agreement seems like so much torture.
Whack a mole.

I was feeling a little manic last night and agreed to come to the shop today, though I’m not sure why other than the man child doesn’t want to be alone and needs a wench to fetch his lunch. He’s already texted and I’m ignoring it. I’m not feeling it today. I don’t feel social. I feel…low. Nervous. Paranoid. When I get this way, being around the emotionally dead narcissist is bad juju. I’m volatile and he has zero empathy, it’s just a bad mix. I try to explain it to him but he doesn’t hear me. He doesn’t even believe mental illness is real, thinks it’s personality and weakness. Though he has no problem pointing out all my manic eps and depressions from 15 years ago and declaring I “need help.”
Ugh, I don’t need that shit right now.
I will make an appearance, but I’m gonna push the time because my dish endurance seems to max out at three hours before I start freaking out. That just makes the paranoia and panic worse. No need to feed the beast any more than it’s already devouring.

So I’m low, but my mind is fairly focused although loudly so with the thoughts. My anxiety is high.
Whack a fuckin’ mole.
No sooner than one condition is under control or management…One more emerges. None of them can be appeased simultaneously. I think that’s why I’ve proven so difficult to treat. Not to mention all the years misdiagnosed being given pills that sparked manic episodes and didn’t help the depressions. Probably built up immunity to anti depressants so now nothing works well.
I am so resentful of my disorders. I don’t want any of them. I have made so many changes in my personality, my perception of things…I’ve worked hard to learn to accept and love myself (in a not conceited way) so the fact the moles just keep popping up…It seems futile at times.
How can I get better if my brain won’t get on board? I can only make so many changes to myself personality wise.
I can’t make all the misfiring brain parts work together.
Or am I making excuses and I just am a weak shitty person?
Oh…The depression is talking again, la la la I CAN’T HEAR YOU.

Gah. So don’t want to deal with people.
I do so much better on the internet interacting. I know it’s kind of anti social (Facebook is socially acceptable anti social behavior) but with the mood swings and paranoia…Interacting with flesh and blood people is just exhausting.
But most of the people I interact with on line are readers of this blog and they’re positive so that helps.
I think I am babbling now.
I do that when I am nervous.
But I don’t know why I am nervous. It makes no sense.
Could the term nonsense be used a euphamism for being broke?
Oh, yeah, it’s gonna be one of the flaky dingbat days.

tigger

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2 Responses to “Whack A Mole”

  1. Being Unipolar (depression) I cannot imagine the horror of having yet another mood I could not control battling for attention.
    Much strength to you.

  2. I never thought of it that way, perfect example! You hit the mole (nail) on the head ~ LOL! 🙂

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