Take a Ride on My Mood Swing

I woke,despite little sleep,and for once didn’t feel like why bother. That lasted an hour. Then came calls and noisy people outside and my kid’s therapy later on…Exit depression,enter anxiety.

I am not a fan of feeling This out of control and irrational. I just have bad juju something else is going to go wrong. I wish I knew how to combat it. Breathing doesn’t help. Rainbow grounding is a fail.

I just want to feel baseline normal.

Another erratic night of sleep/wake every ninety minutes. Now I wait to hear from the mechanic about my car. Hopefully all will be functional. Five weeks trapped at home has left me feeling helpless. In keeping with my “expectant preemptive anxiety” of anything on my daily schedule…my stomach churns. My paranoia swells. Anxiety metastasizes. So no it isn’t just appointments I don’t relish. It means waiting on,well,whatever. Adding to the turmoil is how to get to the mechanic to fetch the car. It’s at most 3/4 mile. And the weather is quite tolerable. But upon telling my dad my plan to walk,he and step monster pow wowed and agreed I shouldn’t walk in that neighborhood and to call for a ride even if they had to make a trip to town early. Sweet,right? NOPE. I had to walk a mile to pay rent this month cos their computers were down and that was fine,healthy for me. But it was in a better neighborhood. I know I should be thankful they care so much but…ugh. trying so hard to be self reliant inasmuch as my disorders allow. So that is adding to my stomach ache. As is all these run on sentences and general incoherent tone of this post. Dammit,why must I be such a disaster piece?

I have biohazard housework to do but am too nervous to even try lest the mechanical call come in during and me have to start all over again. Plus I need music but I gotta keep the phone line free…so I sit in my safe spot and surf FB mindlessly while mentally beating up on myself for not being strong enough to tackle…fucking housework. So mortifying to be completely undone by basic household tasks. And based on what I always considered personality or anxiety quirks,I tick off a dozen symptoms of ADHD. Stuff also attributed to bipolar. I just want to feel better,ffs. Screw labels and diagnoses. Just make this hopelessness go away.

Disaster piece.

If I ever write a memoir,that is what I shall call it.

Yes,the black depression is talking. But thing is,it is telling the truth. I don’t want to be here anymore. Not here,not there,not anywhere. It is all an exercise in futility. And it isn’t even self pity seeking outside validation to convince me I really do want to be here.

The world is ugly. People are vile. And living with mental illness in such a world is like the death of your soul every minute of every day.

I don’t know how to just entirely give up,though. I just keep zombie shuffling along trying to maintain survival mode in hopes…I will feel better. I have never been this low before. So I cannot honestly tell myself it will all work out. You have to have a will to live,not just a stubborn streak to survive. I don’t know if I will come out of this.

Maybe the scary part is I just don’t care. Something has been wrong with my body 2 years now but I get brushed off when their standard tests show nothing. To my sick.mind this is just confirmation I am probably dying of a terminal illness. So nothing matters. I am dead already,my  body is too stupid to just keel over already.

I know I sound wacko. I just needed to vent. The horrors of life persist and so do I. Survival mode above all else even when convinced survival is pointless.

To those morons who say seasonal depression is mild…I hate you with the heat of a thousand suns. This is paralyzing. Nothing mild about having no will to live.

I guess spite and stubbornness as motivation count for something.

Six months since my psych NP could fit me in. Six months same flailing meds. And me overwhelmed,frustrated and drowning. My kid’s issues piled on top of no car…I guess very bad thoughts make perfect sense. I keep going even tho every fiber of my being wants to be safely locked away. Yes,from my kid. From family. From friends. Except I cannot escape the real problem. Me. Keep telling myself I just gotta struggle four more weeks til season change and by then will have hopefully seen the NP (they have canceled twice already)….

Just gotta hold on. Keep fighting my way through. Nights like this when the paranoia borders on panic and wretched thoughts of my own demise being the only way out…A month may as well be a lifetime. I am scared tonight. That I am unraveling. Hopefully in the morning light after a brain reboot of sleep I will feel less doomed. You just have no idea how long and grueling ten hours can be when your own mind wants you dead. They are just dark persistent thoughts that will pass. I have no plans to hurt myself. I just felt the need to purge this darkness and remind myself…this too shall pass. Eventually. I hope.

The house is filthy even for me. I live in terror of inspection,checking the mailbox multiple times a day for the usual 48 hour or less notice. I have allowed my so many things to accumulatw over months now the hall and my room are barely negotiable. Dishes and laundry need done. It took all my energy to get dressed properly and most of it was the cold windy day and being frozen. Broken sleep yet again. Battling stomach issues from hell. I went from discomfort to “the fix” putting me in actual pain,some of it also stress induced. I want to kick my own ass and am berating myself for being so weak as to get done in by housework. That just makes it worse. And to boot I am anxious and paranoid for no real.reason. Living off of a stash of 4 emergency Xanax because I can’t seem to make the 30 minute trip to get my refills. I dodged my dad’s calls all weekend. I am also terrified to reply to my messenger cos it is no doubt about a FB group and something I shouldn’t have done cos they never contact me otherwise.

I am gone under. Buried alive would be an upgrade. And the solution to some of it seems so simple. Go on a marathon cleaning spree and fix it,ffs,you weak ass whiner. If only mental illness were so easily trumped by logic and desire to do better.

I feel frozen to my safe space. Chair,living room,familiar show on TV as safe background noise. Hoping my stomach settles soon tho it shows no sigm of it. I wish for a nap. A brain reboot so things might seem less overwhelming. But alas,my brain rejects even assistance from the last of my melatonin. Just a couple of weeks ago I was still under but coping better. Overnight I went down a razor blade lines rabbit hole. I fucking hate this.

I don’t see the NP til Jan 25,soonest they could get me in but at least I have refills. Ptovided they bothered to call them in,the practice has become a mess sincemy actual psych retired and nurse practitioner telepsych was forced on me as only option. Still battling my kid to the extent I have given up and save the fight only for drastic self endangering things.

Weeks no post then absolute despair. Merry fucking Christmas from scumbag brain. My silly ass still wishes on stars. Lately all I have wished for is some relief from my mental illness. It is that bad. But I survive another day so that has to count for something. I hope.