From panxiety to hypomania

Yes, after two days in paranoid anxiety living HELL…Today I find myself irritable yet my mind is racing with thoughts and in spite of the Focalin…I can’t seem to grab one idea and make sense out of it.
This is hypomania of the brain. Not the good kind where your body won’t sit still and you accomplish stuff.
NOOO, this is the hamster wheel hypomania where your hamsters in your head all climb on the wheel at once and trample each other, trying to make it spin, pushing each other aside, getting the wheel going,stopping, more trampling.
Chaos.
In my own head.
I have all these good ideas for posts that would actually be “good” and by that, I mean, make sense of the topic of mental health as opposed to me prattling on displaying how messed up I am.
But the ping pong balls are flying in my skull and the hamsters are trampling and it’s not looking good.

As I am entering pms week, I am wondering if all the anxiety and irritability are tied to hormones and amplifying it all.
That people can’t put together hormonal imbalance with brain chemical imbalance and think, wow, that’d definitely put you off kilter…makes me want to eat their souls.
Ha, I’d starve. They don’t have souls.
Am I being judgey again? I give what I get, lame as it sounds. I should grow up. I’ll put that on my bucket list.

Or is that the “fuck it” list?

It’s so frustrating to be filled with so many ideas and not be able to get them out. I’ve got two drafts on the same post I’ve been wanting to write for days, a “good” one, and I reread them and they are so scattered and it’s like, god, get to the point, you dumb bitch.
Finding the point when your brain is so much a crowded a freeway is easier said than done.

On the plus side of hypomania, my dad called and I didn’t blow him off or give him the “uh huh…Yep…Okay…” Ya know, where you make appropriate sounds but aren’t hearing a bleeding thing.
Have I recovered from the panxiety attacks? Am I rested up for the people overload of last week?
Or more likely, I just took my Prozac and the instant boost is giving me that false period of “I feel better” when in actuality, my chemicals aren’t leveled out.
I want to believe the pseudo happy thing.
I know I have to face reality.
Reality is not my favorite.

Clown shoes.

I doubt my energy will remain chaotic for long. My kid came out of the gate swinging, screaming at me because I wouldn’t let her use the good hair brush on her doll. She actually began whacking herself in the face with the doll, I made her so mad by saying “no.” Then I asked her to put her dirty clothes in the laundry and she screamed YOU WANT ME TO DO ALL YOUR WORK FOR YOU.
Oh and the Sunday morning pre bible school, “Mommy, you are sin” speech.
Yay.
I’ve been up two hours, with uzi child hammering at my brain it feels like ten.
I swear there is something off in her brain chemistry, the way she swings from loving to angry to sad. It seems so familiar.
And yet she’s not yet six so I can’t go transferring my issues onto her. She could just be a moody kid. Or maybe I am toxic. Or…
I think my biggest fear is there being an actual problem and chalking it up to “normal childhood” like my parents did to me. If my kid needs help, I’ll move heaven and earth to see she gets it. God knows no one ever helped me.
At the same time, I don’t want to label her simply because I have a label.
Feck.
Parenting is confusing.
I just don’t want her to end up on Deadly Women as the first eight year old to murder her mother.
I need to stop watching that show.

Today is the day.
While she goes and learns about more negative biblical terms to call me, I am going to force myself into a shower. That I have to force myself into the shower is sad beyond words. It’s such a normal thing. Why is it so hard for me?
Oh, right. Depression.

I see the shrink tomorrow. I’m glad they called to remind me, even if it gave me the whole weekend to anticipate and panic over it.
I’m not sure what to say to him.
The Focalin worked for the first two weeks and I’m still clearer but not quite there yet?
The depression isn’t letting up, what can we do about that since you don’t want to up the prozac?
I’ve gotten to the point of fear of a “uncooperative” mark in my file for not bowing down to the doctors that I’m afraid to be honest.
And of course, if I admit I had one good day out 30, well, obviously I am cured.
Feck. Fuck. Clown shoes.

I wanna ride a pegacorn off into the sunset.
I mean, INTO the sun.
No, wait, I want to ride it to Vegas and go on those rides on top of the Stratosphere tower.

I don’t know what I want, my brain won’t make up its mind.
Another day in paradise.

Then we start another week. My kid has a school carnival Thursday. Unfamiliar place, full of loud children and stuck up parents. UGHHHHHHHHHH.
I should view it as fun. And I am going to take her even if I throw up the whole time and have to come home and call R to bring me a bottle of liquor so I can calm down.
But her fun is my misery.
My fun is my misery.

I should just draft this. Stop posting stupid random spewage.
That too is on the bucket list.
Feck it.
(R got me on Mrs Brown’s boys and now I’m talking like a foreigner, geesh.)

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One Response to “From panxiety to hypomania”

  1. Ugh! I absolutely HATE when I have extreme irritably/anxiety, etc,,, with my hypomania!! Makes me wanna rip heads off!! I hope ya feel relief from the panxiety soon/ASAP!! Good luck > I mean GREAT luck with your Pdoc tomorrow! Hugs & a jug (of liquor)!!

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