mania sucks

I kind of alluded to it yesterday but the brutal honesty is that the anxiety I’ve been dealing with for the last, six?, months has prevented me from sleeping right and that’s brought on a manic episode.

Mania is The Suck.

I’m working with a massive fucking sleep deficit which means I need to try to get as much as I can, at night, until I’m back to firing on all 8 cylinders. It’s going to take awhile. Fortunately the med the psych doc gave me yesterday worked quite well last night. I got roughly 8 hours of sleep that was pretty decent quality.

YAY!!!

As things start to return to normal with the sleep the rest of the world will go back to where it should be. It all just takes time.

Fortunately, in spite of my massive irritability, no permanent damage was done. I managed to keep just enough of my shit together just long enough and that was the key.

to sleep

One of the biggest battles I face with Bipolar is sleep. My brain refuses to shut itself off at night. I take meds, lots of meds, to try to force myself into a minor coma every night. Sometimes it just doesn’t work. And if it doesn’t work for too long then we have problems.

PROBLEMS.

Anxiety, like what I’ve been fighting against lately, will fuck with sleep. It will actually fuck with sleep almost faster than anything else in my world. I know this. I should have recognized the signs sooner. Hindsight.

I KNOW THIS.

Right now my brain feels like a hamster running on a wheel that’s being controlled by an electric drill. This is Not Good. My doc took one look at me and started sifting through my chart to see where and what we could tweak. We’re adding an additional pill that I already take and another pill that’s new for me.

I’m cautiously optimistic. Cautiously.

What I’m really hoping is that the sleep takes care of the irritability (it should) and that it helps me get back to the things I really enjoy (it should) and that it helps me reconnect with my priorities (so help me god it will).

where to begin

Obviously, at the beginning.

Life has a way of sneaking up on me, particularly in the spring. Something about the change of the seasons has a tendency to make me lean more towards the manic side of life more than usual. Fear not, I’m taking my meds and seeing the therapist and sleeping and trying to eat. I’m doing the things I need to do, I promise. Wanna see?

homemade air freshener gel stuff
a new recipe one night – chicken enchilada pizza, muy yummo
Eric eating cat grass on the back deck
lilacs in bloom on campus, heavenly
my new boyfriend, I mean 3D printed planter
I got my haircut, drastically, and I am a derp
I should not be allowed to have a Pinterest account
panda earrings, duh

In other news, I’m still fighting with my weight. And the triangle scarf. And the back of the vest that I wanted desperately to wear looks like a lavender nipple.

I can’t win them all.

At Mom’s suggestion I’m making a list of projects I have started and need to finish as well as things I know I want to do. It’s rather impressive honestly. But I had forgotten about some of these supplies so really, I should do something with them.

In that vein, I’m seriously contemplating opening an Etsy shop. I have a ton of materials that I could turn into product to sell. Mom asked me if I’d really want to have that kind of inventory on hand, but it seems to me that it’s not really different than just having the raw goods.

Anyone gone that route? Suggestions? Warnings? Recipes for good margaritas? Bueller?

staring down the barrel of a week off work

You can ask anyone who knows me that I don’t often take time off work. It’s not that my work means that much to me, more that I know I do better with the structure that going to work for 9 hours every day brings. And I do actually love what I do, so that helps. But anyway, more often than not the little HR system sends me a nastygram every few months telling me I’ve got so much vacation time waiting to use that I’m going to stop earning any more.

Well hell.

Part of my dilemma is that I mostly hate to travel. Flying is The Suck and driving Takes Forever. I will say that I prefer to drive because then I’m on my own schedule and I can take as much of my stuff with as I want and I can use a real restroom. I am 41 years old and have yet to use the loo in an airplane. Rather proud of that, actually.

Anyway, traveling with people is much more interesting but it still involves packing and the actual travel and then sleeping in a strange bed and the whole Being Away From Home nonsense.

It’s just not often my thing, ya dig?

So I’ve taken the entirety of next week off work but I don’t really plan to go anywhere. I much prefer to Staycation. I fully intend to be lazy, do some things around the house, maybe do a little shopping, and mostly just breathe. Oh, and knit.

I do think it’s super important to take time away from the daily grind and to recharge the ol’ batteries. If we don’t do that, and put ourselves first now and then, we end up with nothing left to give anyone else.

One of the hardest lessons I’ve had to learn is that even though my brain is fully capable to running for days on end with next to no food or sleep when I’m not taking my meds and that kind of feels like flying and being on top of the world, it’s really the worst thing ever.

Anyone who tells you that they miss being manic is delusional. Mania is a liar, worse than any cheating lover. For as high as you go you come crashing, hurtling, down twice as fast and far. The end is awful. And it’s not worth a single minute of it.

That’s why next week I will be going to bed at normal hours, eating healthy and wholesome food, and taking care of myself. I need to punch my own damn reset button every now and again.