Tears, Tears, wherefore art My Tears?

It was, as I declared, hormones, making the water works overflow. Losing my babies is shattering, yes, but one thing about every mood stabilizer I have ever taken- they don’t merely stabilize. They anesthetize. As evidenced by one of my favorite Sons Of Anarchy characters dying and not so much as a pseudo tear. Hormones are balancing back, mood stabilizer is regaining its Novacaine-esque duties. For a week, though, it was all helter skelter and the tears just would.not.stop. Reminded me of pregnancy. No control whatsoever.

Now my grief and sadness have manifested as this gaping black hole in my heart. I am numb, yet I hurt. I can’t cry any more, yet I feel the tears inside. I am in self imposed isolation, yet lonely as hell. This is bipolar grief. Hormones just amped it up times a gazillion. I miss feeling, truth be told. I miss being able to feel, being able to let the emotion overcome me and run riot…Being a husk of little more than anger and emptiness is far worse than sobbing uncontrollably.

It was an uneventful day. My dad stopped by to inform me my yard needs to be mowed. Yeah, duh. I asked mom if my sis could bring Spook home and she yells “B, can you take Spook home? Niki doesn’t feel good.” WTF? I never said anything about how I feel, my primary concern is saving on gas mileage so I can get my kid to school. Uneventful yet smoldering hot and irritating. The norm these days.

I didn’t do much while Spook was gone except folded Mt Laundro-lympus and put it all away. Now she has clean cl0thes for school and no digging through a basket. Like it’s gonna quash her fashionista tantrums in the mornings. I cooked two meals. Mostly I sat, sweating, and watching Sons Of Anarchy. I pulled out a few Halloween decorations for the living room, hoping to cheer myself up.

Not really working.

I had steamed super fine green beans with my lunch today and for a moment, I just smiled and thought, Oh no, Abby’s gonna be climbing me, wanting one of her favorite green beans. Then it fucking smashed into me…Abby’s not here anymore. Nor is my yappy little Arsenic, trying to steal chunks of cheese from my hand. Talk about sad…I just can’t come to terms with them being gone. Logically yes, as I buried them. Emotionally…the attachment was far deeper than I even knew, now I can’t stop thinking they’re gonna be right there….

I’ve never had such a strong emotional reaction to the loss of a human being. What does that say about me? Am I evil? Or have I just been hurt by so many people yet cats only love me so it is their loss I feel the most?

It’s messed up that my life seems to revolve around the first couple of hours in the morning when I have slept (as it were) and taken my meds for that hypomanic jolt…then spend the entire day looking forward to nothing but curling up in bed.

While I am doing better than I was a couple of months ago…I still think that whole thing reeks of depression. But my other option is to admit defeat and so starts the medi go round again even though he promised me we could look into adding an SNRI to the SSRI as a prophylaxis against the seasonal. Then he goes and backs down from it and says only light will help the seasonal. I’m gonna have to start recording every appointment because I swear this man is gonna drive me over the edge and I have enough to do that without his help.

I am so lonely without my kittens. Juju and Shady act like I don’t exist. Pantera is loving on her own terms. Abby and Arsenic were my pillow cats, my snuggle bunnies…Now I have nothing to bring me shelter from the storm of my mental issues and struggles. I could live a hundred years without seeing another person and be fine.

Not having a kitty who loves me, and lets me love them, is absolute suckage and loneliness.

I’m gonna start the wind down to that sleep thing. Now that the school grind is starting back up and I’m running on empty to start with…I’m gonna need all the rebooting I can get, IF scumbag brain will even cooperate.

When the zombie apocalypse happens, I really really really hope they eat my brain first. Then they will be too depressed to eat more brains and I can be credited with saving mankind.

On second thought…Not much worth saving there. In which case, I will procure the zombies the tastiest smartest brains and weed out the assholes.

I nominate my family first.


4 Responses to “Tears, Tears, wherefore art My Tears?”

  1. I can wash laundry all day long if someone else will fold and put it away. What the hell is that about.
    Big hugs ❤

  2. Perhaps your cats will gradually shift their roles and someone will go on cuddle duty. I hope so anyway. I’d be absolutely fucked and on my way to suicide a whole lot faster if I didn’t have my dog.

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