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Thursday, 9 August 2012

if this is "normal" would I prefer crazy??? Maybe I would...


So I had a meltdown this morning.  Not of an epic capacity but still it was rather scary for me because once it started it was like the world was spinning in an out-of-control whirlwind around me while I was standing still; a helpless observer even though I was the one shouting and then sobbing uncontrollably.

Up until the meds I was able to push aside things that bothered me and ignore them or use humour/sarcasm/laughter to make myself feel better on a short-term basis or I'd get angry and blow up and feel some relief.

But I swear that I have cried more about my actual FEELINGS and talked more seriously about them in the past few weeks even outside of group than I have in my life.

I'll probably post more later but I've lost my train of thought and I am on my BB, posting through the website rather than email...

Edited to add:

It started with a very, very, VERY common argument starter around here.   HOUSEWORK.
We've tried lists and charts and delegated areas. I've tried leading by example (when my moods were "higher"), I've tried going on strike which has lead to some nasty showdowns which got us nowhere but into UGHSVILLE because I've either caved or one of my wonderful friends has told me that I've had to give in or they've kicked me in the ass to do it (and/or helped me do it).

This week, after calming from the hypomania I was going through last week, I settled into a more healthy and reasonable level of "let's get shit done while I have the energy to get it done" without the lack of sleep/need to stay up late etc BUT I was meeting with a lot of resistance from MOH and the kids.

I blogged about this earlier.  Well, today I really tapped into what was bothering me so much about it and instead of stating how I was feeling factually, as I have done in the past, it was an emotional ride.

It was about feeling disrespected, under-appreciated, unloved, undervalued and basically plain old hurt that my family, knowing from the fact that I have previously stated this on numerous occasions in the past, albeit far less emotionally, that I feel that the way the interior of our home looks reflects the feelings we have for and about one another.

Therefore house clutter equals family chaos.

The fact that no one will do ANYTHING unless I nag and/or yell, when I have expressed multiple times that I hate both nagging and yelling shows me that they want me to feel bad and miserable because they will not do things if there is a list up instructing them on what to do, they will not do things if I ask nicely, they will not do things when they see me doing things (leading by example) and even when offered rewards for doing them.

Hell, most of the time even when they PROMISE to do things, they do not do them...

They want me to get frustrated and cave and do it all myself.


Don't they understand how much pressure I am already under?

Do they want me to get worse?

Do they want me to run away?

Do they want me to throw them out?

Why are they doing this to me?

How can they love me when it seems like it has always been this way?

I just don't understand it.

The week (so far) in review:

I definitely have more get-up-and-go this week but I am still depressed, though now I think it is because of my disappointment in what's been happening with MOH and the kids this week rather than so much of the all-encompassing depression that I've been suffering from for so fucking long.

Like I say, my anxiety IS up, but it's the more unrealistic anxiety & paranoia than the negative self-talk/noise in my head.

I've been experiencing more public social avoidance this week (and the impromptu trip to Toronto was challenging) and I've skipped 2 weekends in a row of going out dancing with my friends at the club.

I have been far more emotional.  Thinking about things because memories are popping into my head, being jarred by various things (no flashbacks or panic attacks though!)
Crying more.  Sharing my feelings more.  Not just brushing them off or laughing them away or blowing up and being angry and that being it.

I think if the story of Pinnochio were real that perhaps this might be what he felt like when he changed into a real boy.  Everything became more than it was before.  And even as a living wooden boy, it still wasn't the same.

Mimicking life and living it are different things and frankly, right now both options are pretty damn scary to me.

I'm standing in the middle of a teeter-totter - trying to get my balance.

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