My anxiety is really bugging me out. I HATE feeling like this and yet, at least once a week or so my whole being explodes into a hail of irritability and hate. Hate for being mental. Hate for having to function. Hate for not being able to sleep all day. Hate for people saying stupid things to me. (Are you making pork chops? No the process of cooking will automatically turn these to steak….asshole)
all I want to do is lay in bed and cry today
but I can’t because hubby is putting primer on the walls in the bedroom today
Plus, of course it’s Valentine’s Day and I should at least make a show of not being an asshole.
But, when I feel like this…well, making a show of not being an asshole take a LOT of work. Plus, I have resting bitch face, so everyone keeps saying “what’s wrong with you?” and let’s face it, when I feel like this….they don’t really want to know. So, I say “nothing, I have resting bitch face” (yes, it’s a thing)
There are triggers….My grandmother is going to be 97 at the end of the week and she fell and broke a rib the other day..but they don’t explain the degree to which to irritability extends. This is pretty much pissiness for the sake of pissiness. Which is really hard to control.
I want to feel good. I want to feel happy. I want to want to help my husband. I want to want to cook dinner and I really want to want to make a cake. But I don’t. Want to, I mean. It took everything to throw some pork chops in the crock pot this morning. And I will have to re-do that effort when it’s all done because we’re going to need noodles and a veggie.
When I feel like this, I feel like talking about it is just whining. That’s how I feel about it when it happens to me. When it happens to you, I think “good, get it out…oh my I can sympathize with that”. When it happens to me I’m being a whiner. Yes, I see that it is ridiculous. But I can’t help it.
I don’t even feel like I need an anti-anxiety pill. It’s not like I’m having a panic attack or even having the symptoms of one. And I hate to take them unless I really need them. But, it’s really hard for me to accept that these days of extreme irritability can be partially controlled with a klonopin. Don’t ask me why….I have no idea.
Anyway, I’m going to get through this “making dinner” thing and then lay around watching the Walking Dead marathon and the new episode tonight. Hopefully tomorrow I feel better.
I could go through all the little petty things that have landed me at annoyed. But, the fact is, that it doesn’t matter, cause in the end, I’m still annoyed. Although stupid questions aren’t helping.
It seems to be going around, too. Almost all the bloggers I follow are feeling crappy.
I seem to be in this weird routine. In the morning I’m good. I have energy, I get a few things done, I’m moderately pleasant to be around.
The afternoons are becoming a problem for me and all who live with me. I’m being triggered in the afternoons and I just am at the end of my teeny weeny little rope. I’m tired of feeling shitty.
I’m really tired of never feeling happy.
I realized it this morning. I have periods when I’m good. But I’m not happy. I can’t remember when the last time was that I could say that I was well and truly happy. There are things about my life that I enjoy. But I can’t really say that I’m happy when I’m doing those things. I don’t feel delight or joy. I’m good. Or I’m really not good.
And I think it’s the fucking meds. In fact I’d bet almost anything that it is.
I remember back to a time when I was manic, but I didn’t know what it was. I just thought I was really energetic. But, I also remember periods of time during all that when I did feel joy, happy, content. And I wasn’t on the cocktail of doom like I am now.
I’m trying to think of every psych med that I’ve been on, starting back during the antidepressant only days when I thought I was just kinda depressed all the way through two inpatient hospitalizations, one outpatient hospitalization and therapy sessions too numerous to count. And the only ones that I’m positive I haven’t taken are depakote and lithium. There may be a couple others, but I think that a lot of us can say that we’ve been through most of them.
Now, I’m a compliant kind of gal. I take what I’m given, I go to my appointments, I try my hardest to do what I’m told. But, I’m about done with the meds. Not for forever. I want a clean slate. I want to start from scratch. Because I’m pretty fucking sure that we’ve missed the mark somewhere along the lines.
Before I went to my pdoc appt earlier this week my psych meds were: Ativan 1mg 4x/day, prozac 20mg at bed, lamictal 200mg at bed, neurontin 300mg 4x/day, plus restoril for sleep. At my appointment I told pdoc how I’d been doing, which was shitty with a side of what I thought was mixed episode (but now am thinking may be ultradian cycling). To cap it I wasn’t sleeping through the night even though I was taking 2 of the ativan and the restoril at bedtime (her orders) (see? super-compliant)
The fix was to increase the prozac to 60mg and add in zyprexa. Plus, I was to continue the restoril, but space the ativan out through the day??????????????????????????????
Seriously, what the fuck. At the time, I just said ok, walked off with my scripts and went about my day. But, did we seriously just add meds into the mix and not take anything away? I don’t think on my feet nearly as well as I used to (and even then it wasn’t that fast) so I didn’t question this until today which is, like 4 days later.
But, this is why I want the clean slate. I want to start from scratch. Take it all away and see where I wind up and then build it all back in.
Of course, that’s completely impossible, because I’d probably have some kind of psychotic break going off all the meds and even if I didn’t, I know there would be hospitalization involved.
And this pisses me off to absolutely no end.
I get tired of just ranting and raving in therapy and getting no better. Well, incrementally better, but you know what I mean. I get tired of throwing a fistful of pills down my gullet every night and not feeling better. Of course, I’ve gained 50 pounds, found the acne that I lost as a teenager, remember nothing, trip over my words, trip over my feet (I fall so often…it’s just ridiculous), am perpetually pissed off, and a host of other shit that I can’t think of right now ‘CAUSE MY MEMORY IS FOR SHIT.
When I filled out the paperwork for disability I got to the part about my medications, and I cried. And I tried again and I cried again. Because they wanted to know all the medications I was taking (no problem but I need another sheet of paper please) and what medications caused which side effects. Seriously? Have they never done this before? All these medications cause most of these side effects. Recently I filled out the paperwork for the lawyer to file for an appeals hearing. SSI wanted the same information about the medications and side effects again (3rd time, I shit you not). This time, I just wrote all the meds in a list, then all the side effects in another list just to the right of the first list and put a bracket between the two lists. What the fuck ever. Let the lawyer figure it out.
I just wish it was easier for all of us. But like the saying goes, if wishes were horses, beggars would ride.
Right now I’m just waiting for Cartoon Network to flip over to Adult Swim at 8:00 so I can watch my cartoons. Spending bits of time with the hubby and Bob’s Burgers are pretty much the only things I look forward to these days.
And in the spirit of the meme that I posted above here’s something else for ya
I actually was (why do we always do this) trying to decide where on the spectrum I was earlier and I was thinking I might have actually been somewhere near baseline.
Since I don’t work, and my disability won’t be coming in for the next year or three, my financial contribution to the house is couponing. I’m pretty good at it. I’m not like those chicks on TV who buy 3 buggies full of stuff for $1.97 but I saved about 40% today. That always makes me feel good. But it is a bit of a project. It took me about 2 hours at the store because I wanted to go slow and not stress and I was feeling pretty good when I was shopping and when I got home.
Now, I canceled therapy so I could go do this. I didn’t really want to, but I REALLY wanted to go to the store RIGHT THEN and I never could have finished and gone to therapy. So I told her I was still feeling crappy from bronchitis and went to the store.
And now I feel like an asshole for lying. And I feel like crap, because I’m crashing baby, I’m crashing. I’m exhausted and I’m cranky and all I did was go to the grocery store and cook some crappy excuse for food to pack for my husband’s dinner. And I’m pissed because I used to be able to do this shit in my sleep. Now it takes me out. I was trying to read some blogs earlier and I can’t focus enough to read.
My MIL ordered new plastic containers today. She did not consult me. She did not say anything to me. She picked colors and sizes and types and then just told me that she thinks we need new ones so she ordered them. Now, I get that in the grand scheme of things this is not a big deal. I do get it. It’s plastic containers. But she does this shit and it makes me crazy. The last time it was bedding. She bought us sheets and a comforter. Didn’t tell me, didn’t even ask if I wanted new, and if I did, what did I want. We just got what we got. Now it’s rubbermaid/tupperware shit. I don’t want new stuff. I like what I have. Actually, if she had said something to me, I probably would have joined in the search for new stuff happily. But she didn’t. She never does.
I hate this bullshit kind of stuff, because I feel like such a child. Oh someone bought something nice for me and now I’m all bent out of shape. But, we modified our home to make room for her and our private space in this home is now very very small. Because of how sick I have been, we haven’t been able to work on the one room addition we want to do (that she is paying for). I’m suffering from severe lack of privacy, and it’s making me really pissy.
All I want to do right now is cry and I’m so not in the mood. I’m tired of being up and being down and being up and being down and …oh wait! is that baseline? Doesn’t matter cause it’s already gone.
Psychiatrist upped my prozac the other day and added zyprexa into the chemical pile I take every day. We shall see what happens. Two days in is just not enough time to say what way things are going to go.
I’m not even going to re-read this for typos. I trust you will forgive if it makes no sense.
I’ve brought this up in therapy several times and now I’m going to bring it to all of you.
What the hell is up with waking up and already being pissed off? What could have possibly happened while I was asleep that would cause me to be this irritated when I get up.
I’ve been diagnosed with so many different disorders that I wouldn’t even know what box to put this in. Anger and irritation show up in the symptom list of multiple illnesses, many of which I have.
But which one is at work now? Or is it multiple things going on at once? Is there a way to even sort it out?
I’m thinking it may be the start of another swing towards hypomania, because I just noticed that I’m scratching my arms too hard. For me, that’s an indicator. I’m always scratching my arms. My husband says I even do it in my sleep. I don’t have a skin condition, I just scratch my arms a lot. But when I’m ramping up towards hypomania, I start to do it too hard.
My day seems to be heading towards frustration, irritation and annoyance.
I have to find a way to derail this train.
I wish that I could stop analyzing all of this so much and just sort of go along for the ride.
I can’t wait until tomorrow. Today is a loss. It’s so far out of my reach I’ll never get it back and I’m ready to go to bed and start fresh tomorrow.
My husband (J) and my Mother-in-law (MIL) are going north tomorrow to visit friends and family. J will only be gone for 3 days, MIL for about 2 weeks, but the time I will have alone is precious to me.
My desire to be alone has made me progressively more irritable as the week has gone by. I have things I want to accomplish while the house is mine and mine alone. I have trouble doing a lot of things while other people are around. I don’t like to be watched. I’m afraid that I’ll do something wrong and be embarrassed. Or, conversely, have someone cheerlead for me. I hate it. I prefer to be left alone to do my thing and have it not be commented on, for good or for bad, by anyone other then J. With the house empty, I will be free to do just that.
But, waiting for that time is excruciating. I feel like a ticking time bomb. And every time someone says something to me, I can feel the timer speeding up.
I’m not the type to throw things. I don’t hit. I rarely scream. I tend to suffer in relative silence. But that’s not because I’m not really angry, it’s because I’m afraid that someone will get mad at me. I would much rather internalize my anger then offend someone. That is not to say that anyone in the area is confused as to whether or not I’m angry. They aren’t. MIL hides in her room. J hides outside. Once J goes to work, I hide in the bedroom. Someone is always hiding.
I know that my fear of making someone mad at me is a symptom of my co-dependency. But, in this instance, it’s a fear that I nurture. I think it’s a lot better to worry about what people think of me, then to unleash my anger on them. Maybe it’s not an all or nothing type of situation, but right now it feels like it is. It’s definitely something that I need to talk about with my therapist and pdoc.
For now though, I’m counting the minutes until J goes to work and I can lock myself in the bedroom.