Well hello there. There's not much new going on here. Our offer was accepted on the house and we're officially under contract. The inspection was yesterday and while it wasn't bad, it also wasn't great (and that's got me worried - what if we lose the house over it??). But we'll just have to see how it goes, right?
Mood wise . . . well . . . I'm not sure I really know. I've still been empty and hollow and flat and a husk. Any feelings I do have are muted. Stunted. I'm still pretending, pretending that I'm okay, that everything is alright. I'm putting on that mask, that facade for everyone. I think people are none the wiser. I don't think they suspect that I'm not doing well. I even put on the facade during therapy this week. I don't know why really. Maybe it was just habit. Maybe I wasn't in the mood to talk about my emotions. Maybe it was too hard. Maybe it was all of the above.
Today has been a rough day. I've managed to clean a little, do some laundry, and do a painting. All while fighting back tears. Let's be honest though, it's not terribly hard to fight back the tears. Why? Because there's no emotion behind them. I'm an empty husk, remember? But they're there none the less, threatening to come. And it's frustrating, really. Like, maybe if I could just cry I'd feel better.
At least I'm managing. I mean, I'm able to work. I kind of keep up the house. I've been painting - I took 2 custom orders. So I've been managing. Which means I don't have to be hospitalized. It's been almost a year since my last hospitalization - I don't want to go back.
I'm still having suicidal thoughts. Every. Single. Day. Even though I have good things going for me. Even though I'm managing. I'm still having those thoughts. I hate them. I wish they would go away. But I don't see that happening any time soon. Maybe the one doctor I fired was right - I'm going to be depressed and suicidal for the rest of my life and I need to learn how to deal with it. Now if that's not a depressing thought I don't know what is.
So anyway, there's where I'm at. Yep.
Showing posts with label cleaning. Show all posts
Showing posts with label cleaning. Show all posts
Friday, December 7, 2018
Monday, September 17, 2018
9/17/18
I'm not feeling good today. Not physically, but mentally/emotionally not good. Which is especially annoying because I've been stable for almost 3 months now.
I think I know partially what's going on. See, I'm really feeling like a failure right now. In pretty much every aspect of my life. Home, work, personal . . . you name it, I feel like a failure.
Let's start with home life. Since I only work two days a week, I feel that it's my responsibility to keep up the house. You know, clean, do laundry, make dinners, all that fun stuff. Well, I don't. Not like I should, anyway. I cook on the nights that I don't work, and I keep up with laundry pretty good . . . but the rest of the cleaning . . . not so much. I feel it should be done once a week and I'm more of a once every 2 or 3 weeks kinda gal. And recently this has been making me feel bad but I still can't seem to get off my ass and do it.
Fail.
Along with home life comes sex. We'll just lump it right in there, why not. Let me tell you a little something about being on high doses of antipsychotics, mood stabilizers, and antidepressants: they take away your sex drive. Not only that, for the most part they've taken away my ability to have an orgasm. So, not only do I not want to have sex, I can't enjoy it when I actually do. I mean seriously, wtf. So this makes me feel awful for my hubby, who is still very much interested in love making. The solution? Let's be honest - there's not a good one. I give him blow jobs. It gets the job done but it's just not the same.
Fail.
Let's look at work. I have a good job. I'm an RN at a busy birth center. I help bring new life into this world. I actually really love my job. So what's the problem, you ask? I have my bachelors degree in nursing. I've thought about getting my masters and becoming a nurse practitioner. Either in neonatal or psychiatry. My problem is that since I've been doing ECT I can't retain any new information. I read something, and the minute I close the book it's gone. I don't remember it. There's also the added pressure and stress that would come with going to school and then with the new position that could potentially trigger an episode. As if that wasn't enough, right now we have several nurses on my unit getting their masters, one of them being one of my very close friends. This, honestly, makes me feel like crap. It makes me feel like such a failure because I can't do it too.
Not only that, I'm only working part time. I work two 12 hour shifts a week instead of three. I had to go part time almost 4 years ago because of my bipolar disorder, which had a huge impact on us financially. So much so that we lost our house. Our house we had built from the ground up and loved. We lost it because of me. And now, since I'm still only working part time, we probably won't be able to afford to buy another house. I feel like I should be doing more. I'm stable now, I should go back to full time. Everyone tells me no, don't do it, but I should be contributing more.
Fail.
How about my personal life. I lost several friendships due to my illness, and while I'm mostly over that, sometimes it still hurts. But let's talk about the present. I have my hubby and 2 good friends. That's it. I have my coworkers, but I don't hang out with them. I feel awkward and weird around them. I've been trying so hard lately to start conversations with them, join in conversations with them, to show interest, to be involved but I feel as though I don't fit in. I feel like an outsider. I feel as though I'm held at arms length. I also feel like my hubby doesn't have friends because of me. I mean, we lost all of our mutual friends thanks to me. But, I always wonder if he doesn't do things with former friends or make new friends because he's worried about me. That sounds very egotistical, I know, but I know he worries about me. So maybe he doesn't go play disc golf because he worries about me being alone.
Fail.
One last thing to wrap this up: my weight. Thanks to my meds I've gained around 80 pounds in the past 2-3 years. I feel so horrible and self conscious because of this. I feel disgusting and unattractive and tired and gross. I've been trying to lose weight and it doesn't come off. How does that make me feel? You guessed it - like a failure. I'm now seeing a dietitian and trying a new approach but I'm less than optimistic.
Fail.
All of this has been swimming around inside me for awhile now but really just came to a head today. I don't know why. But I hate it and I hate the way it's making me feel. I've been tearing up all day, feeling like I need to cry but I just can't. Maybe my hubby can talk some sense into me. One can hope.
I think I know partially what's going on. See, I'm really feeling like a failure right now. In pretty much every aspect of my life. Home, work, personal . . . you name it, I feel like a failure.
Let's start with home life. Since I only work two days a week, I feel that it's my responsibility to keep up the house. You know, clean, do laundry, make dinners, all that fun stuff. Well, I don't. Not like I should, anyway. I cook on the nights that I don't work, and I keep up with laundry pretty good . . . but the rest of the cleaning . . . not so much. I feel it should be done once a week and I'm more of a once every 2 or 3 weeks kinda gal. And recently this has been making me feel bad but I still can't seem to get off my ass and do it.
Fail.
Along with home life comes sex. We'll just lump it right in there, why not. Let me tell you a little something about being on high doses of antipsychotics, mood stabilizers, and antidepressants: they take away your sex drive. Not only that, for the most part they've taken away my ability to have an orgasm. So, not only do I not want to have sex, I can't enjoy it when I actually do. I mean seriously, wtf. So this makes me feel awful for my hubby, who is still very much interested in love making. The solution? Let's be honest - there's not a good one. I give him blow jobs. It gets the job done but it's just not the same.
Fail.
Let's look at work. I have a good job. I'm an RN at a busy birth center. I help bring new life into this world. I actually really love my job. So what's the problem, you ask? I have my bachelors degree in nursing. I've thought about getting my masters and becoming a nurse practitioner. Either in neonatal or psychiatry. My problem is that since I've been doing ECT I can't retain any new information. I read something, and the minute I close the book it's gone. I don't remember it. There's also the added pressure and stress that would come with going to school and then with the new position that could potentially trigger an episode. As if that wasn't enough, right now we have several nurses on my unit getting their masters, one of them being one of my very close friends. This, honestly, makes me feel like crap. It makes me feel like such a failure because I can't do it too.
Not only that, I'm only working part time. I work two 12 hour shifts a week instead of three. I had to go part time almost 4 years ago because of my bipolar disorder, which had a huge impact on us financially. So much so that we lost our house. Our house we had built from the ground up and loved. We lost it because of me. And now, since I'm still only working part time, we probably won't be able to afford to buy another house. I feel like I should be doing more. I'm stable now, I should go back to full time. Everyone tells me no, don't do it, but I should be contributing more.
Fail.
How about my personal life. I lost several friendships due to my illness, and while I'm mostly over that, sometimes it still hurts. But let's talk about the present. I have my hubby and 2 good friends. That's it. I have my coworkers, but I don't hang out with them. I feel awkward and weird around them. I've been trying so hard lately to start conversations with them, join in conversations with them, to show interest, to be involved but I feel as though I don't fit in. I feel like an outsider. I feel as though I'm held at arms length. I also feel like my hubby doesn't have friends because of me. I mean, we lost all of our mutual friends thanks to me. But, I always wonder if he doesn't do things with former friends or make new friends because he's worried about me. That sounds very egotistical, I know, but I know he worries about me. So maybe he doesn't go play disc golf because he worries about me being alone.
Fail.
One last thing to wrap this up: my weight. Thanks to my meds I've gained around 80 pounds in the past 2-3 years. I feel so horrible and self conscious because of this. I feel disgusting and unattractive and tired and gross. I've been trying to lose weight and it doesn't come off. How does that make me feel? You guessed it - like a failure. I'm now seeing a dietitian and trying a new approach but I'm less than optimistic.
Fail.
All of this has been swimming around inside me for awhile now but really just came to a head today. I don't know why. But I hate it and I hate the way it's making me feel. I've been tearing up all day, feeling like I need to cry but I just can't. Maybe my hubby can talk some sense into me. One can hope.
Friday, August 24, 2018
8/24/18
It's been almost a month since my last post. I find that it's harder for me to write when I'm feeling good. And that's how I've been feeling - good. I'm stable, I'm even happy. It's weird to be feeling this way and it seems to be a little weird for the people around me (hubby mentioned he's not quite sure how to act with me being "normal"). I've had coworkers and friends tell me that I'm acting like my old self, which honestly, is nice to hear.
So what am I writing about today? I'm happy and doing well, so what, really, am I writing about?
Well, let's just say that being stable and well isn't all it's cracked up to be. To put it bluntly, I don't know what to do with myself. I really don't. I have more time during the day to do things since I'm not crippled with depression and I don't know what to do. It also doesn't help since I seem to have developed the habit of procrastination. I procrastinate and procrastinate, putting things off until I have no time to do them and then I have to come up with excuses as to why I didn't get shit done. This only happens when I'm at home mind you, I don't do this at work.
Let's take today for example. Rather than get up and workout, which is what I had planned to do, I laid around in bed. Uh oh! It's time to take my son to school, guess I can't workout. When I got home from taking Ayden to school, I had coffee and perused Instagram for a little bit. Only "a little bit" turned into an hour and an hour turned into an hour and a half. No! I need to clean the bathrooms! And do the dishes! And work on a drawing!
So what did I do?
I went upstairs and laid down for "a few minutes" (like half an hour). The only reason I woke up is because my hubby texted me. Okay. I gotta clean. But I don't want to and I'm coming up with every excuse as to why I can't do it today. I had this overwhelming feeling of NOT wanting to get it done. But I cleaned. And I congratulated myself on getting it done (even though I did a shitty job). And then I showered instead of cleaning the second bathroom. I made excuses. And hey - it was already 11:30 and I hadn't even showered yet!
But I didn't want to shower. And I didn't want to shave or wash my hair or put on makeup or do any of those things at all. I wanted to go and lay back down and take yet another nap.
Why the fuck is it I just want to sleep?? Instead of drawing or painting or reading or working out or watching TV. All I want to do is sleep. Every day I'm off I take a nap and I will purposefully NOT do something so that I can sleep. This to me doesn't seem normal. This seems like depression behavior but I'm not depressed. I don't like it. I want to do the things I used to love like painting and reading. I want to be able to clean the house without constantly coming up with excuses not to do it. I want to be able to actually work out and not just say I'm going to. Tomorrow.
Seriously! I don't know what my problem is! What's wrong with me? Why can't I just get shit done like normal people do?? I guess I'll be exploring this with my hubby and therapist instead of hiding it and making excuses.
So what am I writing about today? I'm happy and doing well, so what, really, am I writing about?
Well, let's just say that being stable and well isn't all it's cracked up to be. To put it bluntly, I don't know what to do with myself. I really don't. I have more time during the day to do things since I'm not crippled with depression and I don't know what to do. It also doesn't help since I seem to have developed the habit of procrastination. I procrastinate and procrastinate, putting things off until I have no time to do them and then I have to come up with excuses as to why I didn't get shit done. This only happens when I'm at home mind you, I don't do this at work.
Let's take today for example. Rather than get up and workout, which is what I had planned to do, I laid around in bed. Uh oh! It's time to take my son to school, guess I can't workout. When I got home from taking Ayden to school, I had coffee and perused Instagram for a little bit. Only "a little bit" turned into an hour and an hour turned into an hour and a half. No! I need to clean the bathrooms! And do the dishes! And work on a drawing!
So what did I do?
I went upstairs and laid down for "a few minutes" (like half an hour). The only reason I woke up is because my hubby texted me. Okay. I gotta clean. But I don't want to and I'm coming up with every excuse as to why I can't do it today. I had this overwhelming feeling of NOT wanting to get it done. But I cleaned. And I congratulated myself on getting it done (even though I did a shitty job). And then I showered instead of cleaning the second bathroom. I made excuses. And hey - it was already 11:30 and I hadn't even showered yet!
But I didn't want to shower. And I didn't want to shave or wash my hair or put on makeup or do any of those things at all. I wanted to go and lay back down and take yet another nap.
Why the fuck is it I just want to sleep?? Instead of drawing or painting or reading or working out or watching TV. All I want to do is sleep. Every day I'm off I take a nap and I will purposefully NOT do something so that I can sleep. This to me doesn't seem normal. This seems like depression behavior but I'm not depressed. I don't like it. I want to do the things I used to love like painting and reading. I want to be able to clean the house without constantly coming up with excuses not to do it. I want to be able to actually work out and not just say I'm going to. Tomorrow.
Seriously! I don't know what my problem is! What's wrong with me? Why can't I just get shit done like normal people do?? I guess I'll be exploring this with my hubby and therapist instead of hiding it and making excuses.
Monday, May 21, 2018
5/21/18
Well hello there. I'm not quite sure how to write what I want to say. My brain is in a bit of a jumble right now. Racing thoughts, intrusive thoughts . . . it's a mess. Anyway, I was feeling a bit depressed again yesterday, just not right. I wanted to not exist and those feelings have carried over to today.
Yay. Go me.
But I had decided that I was going to do things today, namely, cleaning the house and working out before taking my son to school. I had decided last Friday that I would clean today, period. But when I woke up this morning all I wanted to do was stay in bed. Just sleep. Sleep as long as I possibly could before taking Ayden to school. What did I do? I got my lazy ass out of bed and got on my spin bike for 20 minutes. That, my friends, is a solid win.
But lets talk about the cleaning. On a normal day the task seems daunting. I mean, there's a lot to do. And on a normal day I would break things down into steps and do things one by one, checking them off of my list as I went along. But on a depressed day? Oh no. It seems I'm incapable of doing this, no matter how hard I might try. Everything seems so overwhelming that I want to just sit and stare at the wall.
See that's a thing I think people don't get about bipolar disorder. My brain functions differently when I'm depressed (when I'm manic too) than when I'm "normal" or stable. I can't control these changes (if I could, I would). When I'm depressed everything slows down. It takes me longer to process information. It's like walking through waist high mud. And incoming information has to compete with my negative self talk, not an easy task.
Today though, today I was on a mission. My ass got up and got on that spin bike. I was going to get shit done!
Or so I thought.
Well, I got a little bit done, but not as much as I wanted. Why? I was overwhelmed. My brain was working against me. I did about half of what I had planned. I'm hoping to do the rest on Thursday. Maybe my brain will cooperate with me then.
And I didn't really write everything I wanted to. Because my brain is an asshole.
Yay. Go me.
But I had decided that I was going to do things today, namely, cleaning the house and working out before taking my son to school. I had decided last Friday that I would clean today, period. But when I woke up this morning all I wanted to do was stay in bed. Just sleep. Sleep as long as I possibly could before taking Ayden to school. What did I do? I got my lazy ass out of bed and got on my spin bike for 20 minutes. That, my friends, is a solid win.
But lets talk about the cleaning. On a normal day the task seems daunting. I mean, there's a lot to do. And on a normal day I would break things down into steps and do things one by one, checking them off of my list as I went along. But on a depressed day? Oh no. It seems I'm incapable of doing this, no matter how hard I might try. Everything seems so overwhelming that I want to just sit and stare at the wall.
See that's a thing I think people don't get about bipolar disorder. My brain functions differently when I'm depressed (when I'm manic too) than when I'm "normal" or stable. I can't control these changes (if I could, I would). When I'm depressed everything slows down. It takes me longer to process information. It's like walking through waist high mud. And incoming information has to compete with my negative self talk, not an easy task.
Today though, today I was on a mission. My ass got up and got on that spin bike. I was going to get shit done!
Or so I thought.
Well, I got a little bit done, but not as much as I wanted. Why? I was overwhelmed. My brain was working against me. I did about half of what I had planned. I'm hoping to do the rest on Thursday. Maybe my brain will cooperate with me then.
And I didn't really write everything I wanted to. Because my brain is an asshole.
Thursday, October 13, 2016
Day 89
Here it is, day 89 of "normal", and I'm feeling pretty stuck. Why, you ask? Motivation. Or, more accurately, my lack of motivation. That's right. I'm lacking motivation for nearly everything. No, that isn't an exaggeration.
I'll be honest - I don't really have the motivation to write this post. Seriously. I feel I need to though. I feel I need to write more frequently, even if it's just mundane shit. And so here I am, sitting on the couch with the laptop in my lap, one big sigh after the other.
See it's just that I'm lacking motivation for so many things. Exercise, eating healthy, reading, drawing, painting, cleaning, getting up in the morning. It's very frustrating because I want to be able to do things, I just don't seem to care if I don't. Wasn't on the spin bike for a full 20 minutes? Oh well. Doesn't matter. Didn't vacuum the downstairs? Whatever. We're not downstairs all that much anyway.
The lack of motivation and not really caring (in addition to some other symptoms) are all symptoms of depression. I had a little over a week where I was having some strong depressive symptoms again and I keep thinking that maybe this is just carry-over from that. Except that the lack of motivation started before my depressive dip.
I'm not really sure what to do. I don't know how to increase my motivation (motivational speeches, etc don't work).
It sucks though, and is damn annoying.
I'll be honest - I don't really have the motivation to write this post. Seriously. I feel I need to though. I feel I need to write more frequently, even if it's just mundane shit. And so here I am, sitting on the couch with the laptop in my lap, one big sigh after the other.
See it's just that I'm lacking motivation for so many things. Exercise, eating healthy, reading, drawing, painting, cleaning, getting up in the morning. It's very frustrating because I want to be able to do things, I just don't seem to care if I don't. Wasn't on the spin bike for a full 20 minutes? Oh well. Doesn't matter. Didn't vacuum the downstairs? Whatever. We're not downstairs all that much anyway.
The lack of motivation and not really caring (in addition to some other symptoms) are all symptoms of depression. I had a little over a week where I was having some strong depressive symptoms again and I keep thinking that maybe this is just carry-over from that. Except that the lack of motivation started before my depressive dip.
I'm not really sure what to do. I don't know how to increase my motivation (motivational speeches, etc don't work).
It sucks though, and is damn annoying.
Tuesday, December 29, 2015
I Made a Mistake
I was laying on my bed just a little bit ago thinking that I should write. I even had an idea. But then I lost the idea, had no clue what it was, but still felt I should write.
My mood is crummy this morning which sucks because yesterday it was pretty good. I had ECT yesterday morning, had a good nap after I got home, and woke up feeling like a normal, happy person. Hot diggity damn! I cleaned the kitchen and cleaned the office. We had a boatload of papers that needed shredding in the office. I had to empty the shredder 3 times and the papers took up an entire kitchen trash bag.
Then hubby came home and I was telling him about everything I did. "You only shredded the right side of papers, right?" he asked, a little uncomfortable. "No, I shredded everything." "Okay, well, the left stack of papers was for our taxes."
Fuck.
I shredded our tax paperwork (and our taxes are complicated this year as we went through a short sale).
Fuck.
I immediately felt defensive and stupid and horrible. My mood plummeted and I nearly broke down right there in the kitchen. Instead, I went into the office and sat on the floor, trying desperately to keep from crying. I was upset for several reasons. First and foremost, I thought my hubby was pissed off at me. I can't stand to have people mad at me. Second, I shredded our fucking tax papers! And third, well, I have bipolar disorder so I emotionally OVERreact to everything.
Hubby came in and assured me he wasn't mad at me. He stated he was upset, and we might have a harder time getting our taxes done (he wasn't entirely sure we actually needed the papers, he was keeping them just in case), but he wasn't mad at me. Which was a relief.
But I still felt like shit. And I felt like shit the rest of the night, though I tried to hide it from everyone. Then I didn't sleep well (not like I have been anyway), and woke up still feeling like shit.
Which is very annoying because I really want to feel good. Or even just okay. Why can't I just fucking be okay?
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