I’m Just A Shell

Had a bad day today. I have a trip starting tomorrow and won’t be back until Thursday afternoon. It’s for work so it’s not even close to remotely fun.

The dogs were acting out, mainly Butch. He seemed mad at me. He kept barking at me all day and also at Freya. I spent a good portion of my day just yelling at my dogs. I feel like such a shitty dog parent. I know they’ll be okay – they behave better around my husband anyway.

We’re moving on Saturday and I’m only 25% packed. I started packing up the things I want to take to the hotel and I need to sort out the ones that can go into storage like spring and summer clothes, artwork, and a bunch of other things that won’t fit in the hotel.

I have to put together the gliders’ new cage and the dogs’ crates. I also have to set up the air purifier and the room essential oil diffuser.

I’ve been going through psychosis. My patience is non-existent, I am angry easily, I get annoyed at everything, I’m irritable, I’m going through mania, too. And the voices are back in my head. I think it’s the Ozempic. But I’m also under a lot of fucking stress.

I have an appt with my doctor tomorrow to address the psychosis and auditory hallucinations. I might ask to change my meds altogether. The Geodon she prescribed is not working. I don’t know if I’ll need a higher dosage, put me back on Abilify, or the last resort – lithium.

I also have therapy on Friday. I made a list of things I want to bring up during sessions. I’m probably going to log how each session went. I don’t know what I’m trying to get out of therapy. I’ve had 4 / 5 different ones. They all sucked. I hope this new one doesn’t.

I was hesitating doing therapy again because it’s hard for me to bring up the traumatic shit I went to. But all the anger, resentment, and unresolved trauma is building up and I’m most going to explode and that would not be good for anyone.

At this point, I’m feeling like a total fucking failure. I don’t want to do anything but sleep because it makes the anxiety go away. I really hate the way I’m feeling right now. I have intrusive thoughts – mostly suicidal thoughts.

I just gotta get through the next 4 days for this work trip and then figure out what to do with the long list of shit I have to deal with.

Sad

Sad. That’s all I feel nowadays. I have my reasons to be sad. Reasons I’m not ready to share yet.

But it’s all I feel. A while ago, I felt scared. Scared of the future, scared of the present. Just scared. It wasn’t a fun time – I just wanted to dig a hole and crawl in there and avoid coming out.

But now, I’m just sad all the time. It’s the kind of sad that goes deep in your soul and you end up just feeling sorry for everyone around you because they have to deal with it, too. I know my deteriorating mental health is affecting everyone but me and it has made me be more distant and unreachable.

I try. I try as much as I can to not worry everyone else. I don’t talk about it much. Talking about it makes it more real than I want it to be.

I’ve kind of given up on the whole improving my mental health shit. I just never find the reason to because things never turn out the way I want them to be when I try to prevent the worst from happening. But they happen no matter what I do. It seems like my efforts are for nothing.

I just go on with my life without any excitement about the future. Anytime something close to good happens, I question it. I guess this is what it’s going to be like from here on out.

Dark Times Are Ahead

No, this isn’t some apocalyptic conspiracy theory post. Dark times for ME are ahead. Or maybe I’m already in it. I really can’t catch a break AT ALL. Everything is crashing down on me all at once. It’s suffocating.

I’ve been having more anxiety lately. I don’t think my meds are working anymore. I feel like a shell instead of a whole person. I’m either running on a hamster wheel or just wandering around aimlessly trying to find meaning in my life. One would think at 41 that they’ve got it somewhat figured out.

Maybe I’m cursed. Maybe I’m just not meant to enjoy and live life. Maybe I’m just put on this planet to struggle and always in survival mode. I want to disappear so bad. I want to run away from everything and everyone. I have decided to change my name when we move out of Maryland. I’m starting over – new name and everything.

My heart is always trying to jump out of my chest every morning. I dread waking up. I dread what kind of fucked up shit I’ll find out. There are so many things going on and I really don’t want to share them on here…but it’s just all fucked up. Just knowing that they’re there is paralyzing.

I have no motivation to do anything. I need a therapist but there’s so much to unpack that the ones I’ve met before had no clue how to deal with me. On the outside, I put on a brave face. On the inside, I’m curled up in the corner, in the dark, screaming. I’m tired of fighting to survive.

I’m just tired. Period.

Mental Health Update

I have been diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder. On top of major depression and generalized anxiety because the universe just hates my guts. 

I also found a new therapist. Not only do I need to work on my past trauma and also get through Felicia’s death, I have to start wrapping my head around my diagnosis. This is a lot to take, honestly. I don’t know if I should be relieved that there’s an explanation behind the things I do and accept it or continue to feel like shit because I am not built for this.

Living with major depression has been a struggle for me. It takes a lot out of me just to get through getting up in the morning and doing the most mundane tasks. Then the tiredness and occasional body pains. The suicidal thoughts, the feeling of worthlessness, feeling helpless, feeling overwhelmed…I could go on and on. It’s really a lot to deal with. Now that I have another mental health diagnosis on top of all that, it’s a lot to take. 

I know that this will be a work in progress. I’m a work in progress. But I’m glad I found a therapist who is willing to work with my issues (and she’ll probably need therapy once she gets to know me) and be there to help me come up with new coping skills. I don’t know exactly when I decided I was ready to be in therapy again but I feel like everything that I’ve been holding in and not addressing are weighing me down. 

Now that my kids are older and pretty much self-sufficient, I need to work on myself so I can be a better mom, wife, and person. Even if it means facing my demons. 

If I Could Live On An Island By Myself, I Would

I’ve been asked if I’ll ever go back to Facebook/Twitter. That’s a definite no. Too much social media probably contributed to the worsening of my depression because there were people out there – not deliberately – making me feel like an awful human/mother/wife, etc. I know they’re not doing that on purpose but still…I just learned how to adult, okay? And get this, I can barely see far away without my glasses so yeah…my body is now catching up to my age.

I’m on Instagram. That’s pretty much it. I share my life with pictures and short captions. That’s all I’m willing to share.

Without Facebook, I don’t need to see other people’s political agenda. Phew.

Without Twitter, same as Facebook.

Without LinkedIn, no one knows where I work. Thank God.

But I did find a job. It hasn’t been that long yet so I’m not sure if I like it or not. I’ve been duped before about how great the culture is at work, blah blah blah, then it turns out to be a cesspool of shitheads who sweep harassments under the rug and don’t even punish the perpetrators. What fucking gives?! And if you’re the victim, stop crying because they’ll just end up not liking you and come up with a ridiculous lie on why they had to fire you.

However, I was assured by HR at my new job that whatever the old job got away with would never fly at the new place because they have a zero tolerance for that kind of BS.

So yeah, the new place has the best view.

We have an open layout and I thought that would be annoying because I get distracted easily, but it’s not all that bad. Maybe because people there mind their own business and are too busy to fuck with people. They leave me the fuck alone.

I just wish I could get my depression under control. But that’s for another time. Also, I’m never going back to construction. Fool me once.