Wednesday 7/17/24 Ugh

 I've had some more rough days. Both at work and at home. Yesterday and Monday in particular were not great. Monday I was down and had no energy. Yesterday I was irritable and down and couldn't seem to get out of my funk. I felt like Jer was mad at me (he wasn't). But I felt that way so it was harder for me to come out of my funk. I'm over feeling like this. Why? Why does it always have to come back? Yeah. I know. I have bipolar disorder. That's what it does. But why can't I go a little hypomanic? Just a little. My Vraylar does a little too good of a job at keeping my highs in check. 

A little hypomania would be so nice right now. I'd have energy. I could get stuff done. I could feel really good. But no. No, my stupid brain always has to swing the other way. It's frustrating. I'm frustrated and irritable and down. Lame.

Also, I'm so burned out with work. The past 2 months have been stupid busy. Like, STUPID busy. Everyday we're asking for help. Every. Single. Day. We're always short staffed. Morale is down. Everyone is tired of being overworked and short staffed. It sucks. This week was supposed to be better. There wasn't much actually scheduled c-section and induction wise. A nice breather. Well, ha ha, no. I got a text again this morning looking for help today. So what the fuck. Part of me feels obligated to go in and help. But I'm not going to. I work the next two days. And if we're looking for help again today, then most likely we'll need it for the next 2 days as well. Meaning I'll get to work short staffed yet again. Tomorrow I'm primary nursery (meaning I'm attending deliveries). There was only one c-section and 2 inductions scheduled when I looked on Sunday. I wonder if that's changed. Friday I'm charge again. Pretty much every single shift I'm charge is a shit show. Tons of deliveries, not enough discharges to absorb deliveries, not enough staff, drama on the floor . . . a regular old dumpster fire. This past Sunday was the exception - it was actually a pleasant day. I didn't want to rip my hair out at the end of the shift. But that's not how it usually goes. 

So Yeah. Work has been sucky, my mood is sinking, and I don't know what to do about it. At least, I guess, I'm losing weight. Slowly but steadily I'm losing weight. Down 25 pounds now. Go me. 

I was going to upload a recent painting that I did, since it's been awhile since I posted one, but my computer is being a bag of dicks and won't let me. Well, I guess it's not my computer, it's blogger blocking it for some reason. I don't know. So no painting today. Sorry.

Monday 7/8/24 Rough

 Feeling rough again. Down. Melancholy. Irritable. All of those things. And, really, I have been for several days in a row now. This is very frustrating for me. I've had such a long streak of doing well and now, well, I'm not. I'm not depressed. I wouldn't say that, not yet. But I appear to be heading in that direction. This is so. Fucking. Annoying. I don't want to have another ketamine infusion. Those are expensive. And I'm already expensive because I'm on the semaglutide. I want to be back to how I was - content. Unbothered. Happier. Not how I am now.

It started out feeling down at times at work. If I wasn't doing something I'd get this mild existential dread. And it would pass, or I would get busy and forget about it. But it started happening more frequently. And now I'm feeling it at home. Yesterday I just wanted to be asleep. I was questioning what the point of being awake was. If I'm going to feel like crap I'd rather sleep through it. But alas, I cannot. No, I have to be a functional adult and do things. Which is dumb. Like work. I work tomorrow. And my friend/coworker is having her baby tomorrow and I'm going to have to be happy and whatnot and I'm just not feeling it. Maybe tomorrow will be different. And if not, hopefully I can put on a good show. 

I keep thinking, maybe if I could have a good cry I'd feel better. But I can't seem to get to that point - I can't cry. I can feel like I'm going to, even tear up a little, but I can't seem to do it. So I just feel down and angry. The irritability is a bitch, too. I feel so cranky over everything. I'm not snapping at Jeremy or Ayden or anything. I feel it most when I'm driving or I'm at work. I hate it. 

Anyway, not much of anything else is going on. I want to draw and paint but I have no motivation. I need to make my mom's birthday card (her birthday was yesterday - we're going out to dinner on Wednesday), but I'm lacking ideas. I'll come up with something, I'm sure, but probably not today. *sigh*

Thursday 3/31/22 Ugh

 Tomorrow is April. Time seems to be flying by, but also feels like it's at a standstill. It's weird. I'm looking forward to warmer weather and sunshine. I want to do more hiking and walks this summer, horseback riding and lounging outside. I'd really like to. I want to be more active, lose more weight (I've hit a plateau). I want to make memories. 

But my brain hates me.

I've been so numb lately. So blah in everything I do. There's no passion in me. Hell, there's nothing in me - I'm an empty husk. I can play it off that I'm okay, for the most part. I'd say most people can't tell that I'm struggling. But my fuse is getting shorter. I'm getting more irritable and down. But still so empty. I keep feeling like if I could just cry - get it all out - I'd feel so much better. But I can't. I physically can't cry. There's nothing there. No emotion. I've tried forcing it to no avail. Because there is nothing there. I'm so numb and empty and blah. Anhedonia and apathy are my playmates from hell. And I hate this. So. Fucking. Much. 

I woke up this morning feeling pretty low. I had no motivation for anything. I didn't want to leave bed. What's the point? But I did. I took Ayden to school, had breakfast, then went back to bed. For an hour. I had to force myself to get up and shower. But I did. And I went downstairs and painted a little bit. But I didn't enjoy it. And I think my work shows that. So I stopped. I had lunch, did laundry, and now I'm writing all of this. I'm so tired of feeling nothing. I'm so tired of faking emotions. I'm so tired of everything. Why do I have to go through this? All. The. Time. All. My. Life. I'm sick of it. I'm seriously considering calling in sick to work tomorrow, just so I don't have to pretend. Because nothing brings me joy or happiness or satisfaction or contentment or anything. I feel nothing or I feel irritable. What a way to live. 

I keep thinking I should be grateful that I'm not deep in a bad depression. That I'm not fighting suicidal thoughts (though I still have them from time to time). But somehow . . . this almost feels worse. I'm so tired of pretending. Everyone expects me to be okay. And I think that people would be tired of it if they knew the truth. I mean, I'm tired of it, why wouldn't they be?

So I'm floating along, trying to keep my head above water. It's not easy. Nothing is easy. Ever. I hate this. So. Much. And while I teared up writing this, I can't fucking cry.