I have been having a hard time getting myself together the last several weeks. It’s hard to talk about because there isn’t always a specific reason.
I did have stomach pain for several days which resulted in a call to a specialist, but it seems like it has resolved itself without much input from him. Or at least, I moved my tummy meds from morning to bedtime so I don’t wake up with pain. I have a follow up with him tomorrow. To me, it feels like this is legit, it’s something actually wrong.
Other stuff doesn’t feel like it should be such a big deal, but it is.
Sometimes the hardest thing is just to get going in the morning. The alarm goes off and I hit snooze. It only snoozes 3 times, so I actually have multiple alarms set 15 minutes apart. It shouldn’t be that hard to wake up when you need to, but for me it is. It’s uphill the whole way. Most of the time I just kind of power through it but every now and then I can’t.
And I feel like a failure when that happens.
Starting about a week ago, I’ve been having issues with getting to work. One time I actually got to the train stop but my ears were ringing and I was just all freaked out. I actually rode past my stop and called in sick that day. The ringing stopped after I passed work again on the way back from the end of the line. I don’t like that. I don’t know why I couldn’t just get off the train and go to work.
I also saw my psychiatrist again. I told him about a day when I tried to run a simple bank errand and ended up shopping. I had to call my daughter to come get me, just to interrupt myself. I didn’t need to spend that money. I can still pay my bills, don’t get me wrong, but it was money that should have been saved not spent.
I told him about the first night I was housesitting for a friend. I couldn’t sleep at all that night even though I tried. I went to work expecting to be extremely tired at some point and never did. I went to bed at a more normal time that day and slept just fine. I also told him about the day I spent just laying in bed. That was the day my stomach hurt the worst. Just taking my morning meds and vitamins made me nauseous. I didn’t eat that day. I laid in bed with the cats napping on me, didn’t get on the computer, didn’t watch any videos or work on art, no shower, just laid there in my pajamas.
And you know, I could do either one of those right now. I could get interested in something and stay up all hours to pursue it, or I could get into bed and lay there for 12 or 14 hours. The obsessive part seems saner than the doing nothing part, but either one seems feasible at the moment.
The doctor changed my diagnosis. I am no longer having bad pms, I now have bipolar disorder.
I feel like he told me, I’m no longer in the range of things that are normal, I’m actually crazy.
The day I went shopping, I actually felt crazy. I felt out of control of myself, My therapist tells me that’s the manic part but I thought there was supposed to be an element of euphoria in mania, and I certainly didn’t feel euphoric. I didn’t feel bad either. I felt like it was okay to buy a few things that I want, that I deserve to spend some of my money having fun. Maybe that’s not true. Maybe I don’t deserve to enjoy having a little cash. Maybe it should be all paying bills. I don’t know. What do normal people do? Do they spend money when they want things, or do they just suck it up that there’s nothing left after necessities? I’m not normal any more so I don’t know.
I feel like my whole life is now up for grabs. Everything is analyzed and second-guessed and reconsidered. I’m playing a video game and I get caught up in it and lose track of time. Do normal people do that? Do they realize what’s going on after an hour, or after 3 hours? Why do I feel like I have the energy to visit a friend but not the energy to do laundry? Is that normal? Do normal people struggle with daily tasks?
The game is to pass as normal. We changed my meds, and it makes me less normal. I sleep through my alarm clock now. I am late leaving for work and my roommates ask how I’m doing. Kinda crappy, thank you. I’m doing my best and I can’t pull it together. Everything is big and overwhelming and I am alone. I want it to be okay to be overwhelmed, and it’s not. It’s not because it affects work and accomplishment and motivation. People get bothered when I don’t act like other people. Folks who are inclined to help me start to feel like I’m taking advantage of them.
What it looks like from the outside is not how it feels from the inside.
Give yourself grace, says my therapist. Don’t be so hard on yourself.
Really? The people I live with are freaked out that I’m there at 8:30 in the morning because my shift starts at 7:45 and I need to be out the door between 5:30 and 6:00 in the morning to get there in time. Only apparently I woke up enough to turn off the alarm – which I don’t remember – then slept until 7:30. The new meds do this to me. What they don’t do is make me look normal with only 1 or 2 doses. They take time to build up.
My next step is to call HR and see if we can change my shift. Right now I work 4 10-hour days and when you add in lunch (which my employer does not count as part of my day) and the 2-hour commute each way to work, well, I’m often out of the house 15 hours at a time. I come home, eat, and go to bed. I need enough time in the morning to get dressed etc. I don’t sleep 8 hours most work nights, more like 5 or 6. So maybe I can get HR to shift me to another position or at least another shift that isn’t quite so early and is 5 8-hour days instead. It’s a big company, there are other jobs. But I don’t want to say too much to them either and have it used against me. See, there’s the second guessing part.
Give myself grace. I’m crazy, what does that even mean? That it’s okay to be crazy? My crazy freaks people out, why would I want to give that grace? I feel like I’m going to end up a street person, because I don’t make enough money to get by on my own but I don’t know if other people can live with my crazy.
I need to tidy my room. That will help. It won’t resolve anything, but tidy looks more normal and I do need to find my winter clothes so that’s a good excuse. Tear it apart and put it back together. Wash the sheets that are covered in black cat hair. I don’t know how that cat does that, I believe there is more cat hair in my bed than on the cat.
And I need to make art. Making art feels normal to me. Making art makes my heart happy and my soul shine. It seems to eat up the crazy and make all things possible. Make the room tidy so I have a place to make art. That’s a decent goal for tomorrow. That and seeing the doctor again.
One day at a time, just get though today and have a plan for tomorrow. It’s all I can do anyway.