mental health

Friendships

I made the decision to end a friendship last night. I had a friend, whom I’ve known for about 4 years. In this time, this person has constantly overreacted, accused literally everyone who they interact with of constantly attacking them if they don’t tell them what they want to hear, and doing their damnedest to remain a victim in relation to virtually everything. People have offered to help them, and there’s always an excuse why they can’t do it.

The dumb memes saying you don’t need that kind of negativity in your life? That’s what it came down to. This person is addicted to drama, trauma, and negativity and while I wish them the best, I just can’t keep walking around on eggshells afraid they’re going to bite my face off over any comment I make.

It’s been getting more and more stressful to interact with them and it’s taking a toll on my mental health to continue trying to safeguard theirs when all I get back is being told I’m unhelpful, triggering, telling them what to do, and apparently recently I’ve started making fun of their disabilities. I can’t even begin to make sense or if the way they think. As a person with my own disability, I would never belittle or laugh at someone because of theirs.

Anyway… My evenings will be quieter now and I’ll find something else to fill them. Maybe I’ll actually get some crafting done now instead of trying to babysit them while they blame everyone else for all their problems.

Cleaning Out The Cobwebs

I don’t really talk about the details of my mental illness here a lot. When I do mention it, it’s kind of in an oblique way. But tonight I’m going to talk about some really personal things.

I have bipolar disorder, which while I’m on a great couple of meds that keep me feeling pretty good most days, I do occasionally experience what’s called hypomania. Literally, “below mania.” It’s like being able to have super focus, really get into tasks, get all the things done. It’s sleeping a little less, but because you’re not really manic, and that string of depression is still there, you’re still in control and able to steer the boat. You’re still taking care of yourself, eating meals, getting enough sleep, bathing. You’re driven to succeed, and the more you get done, the more you need to do more.

And after a few days, maybe a week, it stops. Now you’ve got the motivation of a sleepy sloth and maybe you will sleep for 12 hours because there’s no real reason to get out of bed.

This is a real thing for me. I just spent 4 days hypomanic and after coming home tonight, I crashed into the don’t cares. But before I crashed, let me tell you what I did.

  • I went to a special sale at my moms work, which was kind of like a mini Black Friday. Between my mom and I, we came home with a lot of stuff.
  • I went through all the stuff and divided it into 5 categories. For Tracy, for Jami, for Jessica, for myself, and to be stashed for future giving.
  • I put everything away that I was going to keep. Not only did I put things away, I reorganized half of my craft room because once I started moving things around, a light went on showing me how I could make everything better.
  • As I worked to reorganize, I started pulling stuff aside to be donated to thrift. As it stands right now, the entire backseat of my car is filled with donations. I didn’t stop at just my craft room. I went through all my clothing, my entire closet, things on shelves in my room. I also selected some things to offer up for free to my online friends.
  • I did 5 or 6 loads of dishes, several loads of laundry, collected the recycling from around the kitchen, and bagged up several kitchen trash bags full of trash. I put the old lemons down the disposal and I cooked a couple meals.
  • I visited with our neighbors. They’re great people, but I tend to keep to myself, so being social like that is also tied into hypomania for me.
  • I worked for several hours on projects. I framed a big project I finished a while ago. I removed some listings from my shop and added others.

And it all came to an end today after taking a big exam in class. I was suddenly exhausted, and had to make myself gas up the car and head home. Once I got home, I heated some leftovers and crawled into bed to watch Netflix. Hypomania over. I don’t even want to get up to pee.

So why am I telling you all this? Because this is how I work. I can’t do anything for weeks and then, if I’m “lucky,” an episode comes on and I get everything done. I make new art. I make jewelry. I stitch some stuff up.

Right now I’m currently taking one single course at a community college. Next semester I’ll be taking two. And two the next semester. And then I’ll be going full time to learn the skills needed to become an MLT. I’m excited but I know it’s going to be hard. I’m going to have days where I just can’t do it. But I want this and I want to put myself in a better place financially. I want to be a functional member of society who is self sufficient.

But I’m taking it one day at a time. Baby steps.

Why Do I Have All This Stuff?

I think my brain is working towards hypomania… I’ve been busting my ass organizing and culling stuff to be donated or just thrown away.

Last night I went through all my clothes and everything that is nowhere near able to fit or just not my style anymore was washed and loaded into the car to be donated. There was an entire kitchen trash bag full and then a bit more. I also added a pair of almost brand new heels that while super cute, I just don’t wear heels anymore. So cute though. Wish I could justify keeping them.

I went through the end of my closet where all my kitchen stuff plus some random other stuff is and added a ton of computer paper to the donation pile. I also decided to donate some of my stuffed animals. Someone is going to get some super cute giraffe stuffies!

I still have a stack of papers to go through and figure out where to put my drop spindle and fiber, but that shouldn’t be too hard. I’m thinking about posting photos of my pvc ukulele stand to offer it up for sale. I don’t need it and can’t use it unless by some miracle we get rid of the mice in this house.

I still need to study for my exam that’s this evening. Hopefully I can at least get a C this time.

Panic Dream

Two nights in a row, I’ve woken up from the same dream with a panic attack.

Basically, I was living on the streets, well, on an abandoned barge, and everyone was turning against me. I started plotting to get back at some of the people hurting me, and this sea captain helped me start a chain of catastrophic events, then rescued me. I had the clothes on my back. I was dirty and messy.

Turns out his ship could fucking fly and then we rode it across these roller coaster rails to a fantastic land where other humans didn’t exist. He was king of this land, and the people were a little different. Slightly feline looking, and covered in short fur but basically human in form.

The king adopted me as one of his daughters and sent me to have dresses made and get cleaned up and be made presentable.

I had an immediate attraction to the tailor who would be making my gowns and he stepped in to help me with my transition into their society. We spent all our time together. We fell in love. But elements of my real waking life were there too.

I was still the same weight. And when it came up that while a pregnancy could occur between our two species, it would be detrimental to the female, I said it was okay because I had already been spayed.

We traveled together between their planet and mine, visiting different cities around the world, doing silly things, learning about each other’s culture. We had fun.

But I was worried about really fitting in here. I didn’t fit in on my old life and people abused and hurt me. I wondered if that would just happen here in my new home too.

I’m not sure why this dream, which continued over two nights, was so triggering for me to cause panic attacks. I haven’t had one in a long time. It’s not a fun thing to wake up from. Heat racing, can’t breathe, your body feels out of control.

Thankfully I’ve had enough of them that I go through a mental checklist automatically. Can I breathe normally? Am I actually trying? Am I in physical danger? Am I in a safe place? Is there anything I can realistically do for myself to help this pass quickly?

By the time I get halfway through that I’m usually good. Last night I was barely awake and shaking so hard I almost started crying. But I rolled over, took a klonopin, adjusted my blankets, and breathed slowly and deliberately until I fell back asleep.

Tonight I was awakened too far for that to help so I got up and peed and watched an episode of South Park.

I don’t know if this anxiety is tied in to the date or something else. The 21st is the 9th anniversary of my Daddy’s death.

Things are Happening!

Yesterday I met with the nice lady at the Department of Rehabilitation and we got things moving. She put in a referral for me with Foster’s, who will put me through the ringer in a few weeks to help find out just what I would be good at. It’s 5 full days of testing, interviews, questions… To check out every aspect of my work ethic, abilities, stamina, and beyond. I’m excited, but I also terrified because Omg what if I curl up and die midway through the testing?

But I’m trying not to dwell on that. In a couple weeks, it’ll happen, and it’s going to hopefully go smoothly.

She also gave me a few leads to follow up on on my own. One is the aerospace program at AVC and I also going to look into what it takes to become a professional piercer.

After that, I went by my therapist’s office to sign some papers, and I agreed to become a member of the advisory committee for the Department of Mental Health. Eek! If it’s too much for me or I hate it, I can always drop out, and it’s only once a month.

Eek!