After The Hypomania

I am the walking dead today after a couple of days flying high due to a couple of missed Lamictal. Yay. Back to what has been my norm for month after month now. Nervous yet lethargic. Grumpy, snappy, irritable. Not to mention the humidity is smothering and when I sweat, I break out more, as I am allergic to my own frigging sweat. Happy fracking Saturday.

This is the cruelest part of bipolar. You feel good or at least stable for a couple of days and then the splat comes and it never ceases to suck. What’s worse than feeling depressed all the time? Getting a glimpse of what it’d be like to be in a normal frame of mind and then being dumped back into the abyss. That’s sadistic. Everyone wonders why I have this pessimistic “icky” attitude toward happiness or even the notion of it. THIS. This is why. Because while others go through life fairly happy and some with mental issues get stable or better so they can spew the sunshine and puppies…I get fleeting glimpses of this. I am resentful as hell, not toward those who are happy, but toward the fact that I never get to be in that space for very long. I WANT TO BE. Maybe happy isn’t in my skillset but content and upbeat-ish wouldn’t be rejected.

I’d rather not know happiness at all. You don’t miss what you’ve never known.

During the hypomanic bout, I felt like things were looking up. I was all hell bent on hitting a few yard sales today, if for no other reason than to say, “Look, I’m getting it out and doing normal things. I’m still not cured, but I’m doing what you professional fucks expect!” That’s become my modus operandi as of late. Forcing myself through things just so I can’t be accused of not trying hard enough. While hypomanic it felt almost like I wanted to do it.

Come today, hypomania has left the building, and I don’t want to do a fucking thing. I mean, I forced myself out the door, Spook and I hit three yard sales, couldn’t afford more than a few quarter items. But then the smothering humidity, the traffic, and just being irritated (for what reason, I dunno) it was like, last call. Go home. During the hypomania I had all these plans for the weekend. Do an overhaul on the spawn’s messy room. I was gonna be productive. I was gonna feel good.

This just in: I’m a fucking moron. The instant the mood stabilizer went back in the cocktail, the feel good went away. Maybe that doesn’t speak well of mood stabilizers. But as good as hypomania feels…I’ve gotten myself into some huge messes because of feeling too good and having impaired judgment and no concept of consequences. So it’s the price to pay to avoid that mess. Downside…If the anti depressant’s not doing its job, I’m not in the middle, I’m just controlled depressed.

Suckage.

Woke up to a note taped to my door. Everyone in the trailer park had one. It was this long list of “rules” of our leases. Far as I can tell, my only infractions are having too many cats (hey, if people can have four pit bulls, I’m keeping my damned cats who stay inside and hurt no one.) and I don’t have lids on my trash cans. I’m a goddamned menace to society. I was especially fond of the part “two reports to the office of infractions will result in an eviction notice.” Hmm…Yep, that’s about right. Too many cats, you’re out. Run a meth lab, meh, can’t be arsed. The part about “supervising your kids” was a winner, though. They let them run feral all summer.

Needless to say, that set off my panxiety. Because I’ve had so much experience with little things getting demonized while the major things go unchanged. Smack your kid in the face? Meh. Kid isn’t bathed? OMG, the abuse…I’ve seen it happen, it’s not affectation or drama or pessimism. I told my mother the other day that parenting in this day and age is terrifying. The shit we got away with when I was a kid and no one thought twice would be considered neglect and abuse today. I never considered myself neglected or abused, I just didn’t have strict parents. (Plus, they were gone at work all the time so I was technically in charge of myself from an early age.) I’m scared to let my kid play out in the yard if I’m not out there. But because of sunlight and allergies, outside is a nightmare for me. It’s a catch 22. Kids need freedom, to an extent, as much as they need boundaries. I haven’t even taught her to ride a bike because I can’t let her ride it anywhere unless I’m with her. I’m not doing so great with that normal mom thing.

I’m back to gnashing my teeth, yay. I can’t see how that’d suddenly become a side effect of Lamictal after four years. Meds are weird, I guess. I think at this point, I am just gonna give myself permission to do absolutely nothing. Maybe if I let myself breathe…I will find motivation. That’s how I roll. Putting a gun to my head does no good. It’s counter productive because my inner rebel shouts out a big FUCK YOU.

Oh, well, I had a couple of decent enough days. Such is life with bipolar. Hollywood, as well as mental healthcare professionals, play up the extremes of bipolar. They don’t seem to give much credence to the day to day where moods ebb and flow. No, they’ve renamed that borderline. I say bullshit. Maybe because I protest so much, it’s proof I am just a defective personality.

Thing is…I don’t care anymore. I used to do the meds and therapy to make myself more tolerable for others since they insisted I had a problem and it was all I’d ever known so I didn’t really consider it anything but, well, who I was.

Now…The things I do, I do for me. So I can be a better mom, a  better person. Not because others expect it. Things are much easier when you do it for yourself. I have my quirks. I have my dysfunctions. Is it a disorder or has the past just left fingerprints on my soul?

Psychiatric care doesn’t factor in anything spiritual, that’d just be another disorder.

And my inner rebel says….

Bite me.

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8 Responses to “After The Hypomania”

  1. FUCK THAT SHIT! I ain’t messin’ with YOU no more! You don’t got no TRASH CAN LIDS!! (hate to meet up with you in a dark alley!) YOU BIG TRAILER PARK THUGS, YOU!! Nothin’ – I didn’t say nothing!?! LOL 🙂

    • I know, right? It’s Saturday night, I just may be on America’s Most Wanted tonight! Fuck that serial killer and bank robber, man, get the crazy bitch with no trash can lids! Save the world!

      On Sat, Jul 25, 2015 at 3:32 PM, Take a Ride on My Mood Swing wrote:

      >

      • Yeah, well just don’t look for a man on ancestry.com, they’re not a dating website & it’s probably illegal in your state. You’ll def be on AMW!

      • Ha! I bet that shit’s not only legal in the south, but encouraged! Inbreeding perpetuates redneck population!

        On Sat, Jul 25, 2015 at 3:55 PM, Take a Ride on My Mood Swing wrote:

        >

      • Yup. I just asked my Daddy brother. He said it also makes DNA tests irrelevant,,,

      • I’ve never watched it but I don’t really need to. My stepmonster was raised by her uncle, whom she called dad, yet it was his brother who was her sperm donor. Not to mention she’s two years younger than me. I like her and all but…

        EWWWWWWWWWWWWWW. Redneck culture is icky.

        On Sat, Jul 25, 2015 at 4:20 PM, Take a Ride on My Mood Swing wrote:

        >

      • Yep, not for me either. The further away I am from a man’s genes (not jeans) the better!

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