Monday February 10th, 2014 – Day 8
Well, well, well….today was another 10am out of bed
day. Not sure whatsa’ happenin’
there. I don’t normally need to stay in
bed that long or chose too. And I
especially don’t think of going back into bed under the covers. I know this is not uncommon amongst normal people
who don’t suffer with mental illness.
Not that I am not normal, I am “special” normal. I am a special bitch I am.
I promised not to lie on this, I promised to myself and to
you. I will be completely honest. I got back into bed at 10am and just thought,
“get your fat ass up and to the gym”. I
don’t like name calling and I don’t like to call myself names. I never do out loud anymore. I’ve had friends call me on the
behaviour. This morning I needed to be
harsh with myself. I don’t go to the gym
to lose weight. I go to the gym to get
this chunky monkey body moving, flexible, and strong. I need to be strong with my back
injuries. And old old injuries from High
School, bad knee and shoulder are all coming back to haunt me with age and
weight. So I am going to the gym to get
a handle back on these things. Shit
sitting here typing is flaring up the bursitis in my right shoulder badly but I
refuse to get one of those speak type gizmos for my computer. I know I will say “apple” and it will type “balloon”. Three times, if that, of that crap and one
thousand dollar computer is going Frisbee style into an expensive French door. Imagine the fury of the husband with
that. And and, he’d have to hold it in
too because he’d take one look at my face and say, “great this will be a fucking UFC
throw down if I yell at her for this childish behaviour right now”. *giggle* I get away with murder cause I am cray
cray. He always says, “I am walking on
eggshells with you”. I always say, “I
hear nothing crunching?”. He does walk
on eggshells, I know he does. And it
would take its toll on him if he wasn’t a typical male and an asshole sometimes
too. I have to step back and not stab him with a rusty (staph
infection) spoon often enough. We are even steven!
I am so happy I went to the gym because it does send them endorphins
to the brain and I do feel better. Don’t get me wrong,
when the little old bird started talking and not letting me get my words out I
wanted to punch her in the throat and tell her to shut up and listen to me
but then I remembered when not driving cars I like old people. They’re cute.
So I let her go on, and on, annnnnnd on.
I mean we said goodbye in the stretching area and because she was at the
coat check when I got there she actually said, “and then…..”. OMG really???? We said goodbye for god sakes. The story ended. WTF?
Either way, yesterday was definitely just a mood because I
feel fine today. Well I feel
normal. Like me. I feel very fuck off humans unless you’re
entertaining and I will like you. That’s
normal. I had to make a call to the 407
ETR and they’re billing department. I
was a little worried, it can be touch and go.
If I am down, I cannot make any call resembling a customer service call,
and my husband will ensure that doesn’t happen.
He doesn’t want to lose all our service vendors! I assured him I could make the call. And I DID!
Those are successes for me.
In the past, in my pre diagnosis days my calls used to go
like this; “Hello, before you say anything I am the Director of what can only
be described as a toxic wasteland of shit and egos and because of that I have a
short temper. You are not to blame but
if you are not prepared to be efficient and accurate, and NOT be offended by my
short nature you had best get someone else on the phone”. I was not impolite after that but I said what
I wanted, you had better answer yes and quick to my questions. Now, after diagnosis (my own "AD") when I am sad I get so
angry to cover it up and I am simply not allowed to make the calls. Dan knows
I will snap in the middle of it and say something productive like “are you
still inutero, is that why you can’t hear me?”
It’s just not nice. Funny, "in utero", but not productive always.
But today, today is a good day and my convo with 407 was a
huge success and as sad as it sounds I take that as a good step made
today. It is not easy when you are
battling a bucketful of demons doing the simplest of tasks. Your brain is a very powerful thing.
As I said, I do feel good after the gym. It’s imperative to someone with mental illness,
it just IS. It’s scientifically
factual. You need to move and get those
endorphins going, you need to feel like you can move, you need to feel the
accomplishment of moving. Other things
that help are diet. I am not saying
starve yourself, diet actually means FOOD.
Sugar and caffeine affect mood.
Both make you jittery and people with bi polar especially feel jittery
when high. One can create the feeling
just by eating enough sugar. Feel
better, more chocolate, feel better, more chocolate. When the sugar wears off you crash and get
depressed. All of it factors in. I haven’t cut anything out of my diet but I
do watch my moods according to food. I
don’t drink anything caffeinated after 12 noon.
It’s rare for me to drink juice or pop, extremely rare.
This is excellent. Reminds us of the choices we have. Even with a disease you have a choice as to how you are going to face it and deal with it.
I drink a ton of water to keep the medicines
working easily through my kidneys and liver.
And I don’t drink alcohol anymore.
For the longest time I was drinking every day because I was self
medicating but I realized after a while I was jacking myself up with the booze
and crashing with the hangover. I am talking “I don’t want to be alive”
crashing. The final straw for me was the
crashing during the alcohol. I drank so
much one night with friends during a low that alllll my emotions and issues
came pouring out and it was scary and a night of endless tears and anger. I have not drank any significant amounts since. It was 4 years ago. I am not an alcoholic (said like all
alcoholics…insert irony here). I just
don’t think taking all this medication to stabilize my mood makes sense to mix
alcohol into it as well which is mood altering.
I might as well smoke pot if I am going to do that and the time I tried
that, well read here;
There’s a lot to be said to helping yourself, caring for
yourself, being kind to yourself by not looking at the disease or any disease and
assigning yourself limitations but instead calling them actions of kindness. I love myself enough to know drinking often
is not good for me. I know toxic people
will make my OCD crazy as I say “why why why” constantly only to never
understand them because I AM NOT LIKE THEM.
I have enough subscriptions to magazines I can't keep up with.
I know sleeping as much as I can is good for the mind. I know getting out of bed at a certain point
is necessary. Conversely I know
sometimes bed is what a person needs, time curled up with their favorite blanket. I have one by the way, two really. But most recently my therapist gave me a felt
two sided blanket with little girl dolls all over one side and I am supposed to
“hug the little girl in me”. She’s been
waiting to give it to me for 3 years.
She knew 3 years ago I would have looked at her like she had 3 heads and
asked her to shove it where the sun won’t shine. Now, I know I need things that make me feel
warm and protected, safe and warm. In
other words, now I am a big fucking softie and need my “ba ba”.
That's not a diaper.
How about you? Do you
have something that makes you feel warm and safe? That gives you comfort?
You be hard pressed to find a better 12 step program.
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