I gave my Assistant Manger my days and time I can work. This has been ignored two weeks in a row. They keep putting me on days when I have told them I have a day job. It takes so much energy for me to confront them and ask to be heard. Now I feel like I am purposefully being ignored so I will quit.
I don't want to quit. I just want them to work with me. I felt like I was being punished yesterday. I had 7 hours of mopping, brooming and bathroom cleaning. My back ached so bad. 7 hours? Why not break it up between two people each day. Maybe it just is how they do it, but it sure as hell felt like punishment.
That is how my bipolar brain works. It makes a mountain out of a mole hill. My brain is all paranoia.
I will have to corner my Manager, who moves so fast that I can't keep track of where he has gone, and see if he can put a face to the name on the sticky note and help me not work days when I have a day job.
I have to keep going in even when I have a day job because I need the damn money. I need the damn money and my back be damned, it is an easy way to earn it.
But I am truly tired of having to step up and try to set boundaries, especially when I feel so threatened. They make me feel like I am trying to get special privileges. I can work week day evenings after 5 and anytime on weekends. Surely that is beneficial to them?
I will just keep trying to be brave and not feel guilty.
Here is the second part of my story of anxiety and tears.
My son left for boot camp on Sunday morning. I cried off and on Friday. I cried off and on Saturday. Sunday morning I held it in as best I could so I didn't upset my son. He knew I would be a mess and was very kind about it. I had to go to work shortly after getting my last two hugs for 13 weeks.
Now I sit and wait for that first letter letting me know he is doing okay.
I came home to find my daughter cleaned up 60 percent of his nasty ass room. I am glad she didn't do it all because I just wanted to sit in there and be with him for a bit. Everyone is pushing change so fast and I am not ready. I don't have to be fucking ready. I don't want to move on yet. In fact I may never want to move on. Maybe I need things to stay the same so I don't lose my shit. I really hate being pushed to make change faster than I am ready. I don't feel respected by being pushed.
I don't want to end up back in depression. I barely made it through the winter and we are so close to reaching winter again. I don't think the people in my life get it. Sometimes I don't think they want to understand.
My daughter turns 17 tomorrow. I am excited for her and scared now that I have seen how hard it is on me for my son to leave. She is wanting to get out and get life started right now. She feels ready to leave. She just got her first job and is carrying some of the reality of being a grown up. I am so proud of her. I also want her to just stop growing up, now.
I am just on that tail end, people tell you about where the time is going to go so fast. I sit here today and my son hasn't walked through to ask what is for dinner or to tell me he is going out with friends and doesn't know what time he will be home. Most days I would get a hug, even though he didn't want to. I am missing that hug from him today. I am missing vacations with him, dinners with him, movies with him, and the silent moments we shared when he would play video games and I would sit near him. I just miss him.
And I can see the end of this same race with my daughter. I will be an empty nester in 2 more years. When did they get this old? When the hell did I get this old?
My advice, if you have children who are not teenagers, do everything you can with them now. Take those vacations before they start their first jobs. Make those cookies together at Christmas. Get the photos when they will still smile for you. Because it comes very quick and you won't be prepared even with 18 years to start with.
Holy crap, my 18 years is gone. Now I have to wait until they are in their late 20's and starting a family for them to want to come home. I am going to try to look at that as I have a decade to cram in all of the stuff I want to do. I need to start now, because ten years goes by really fast.
So far I have survived the vacation. Truly just barely. The trip started with my check engine light coming on less than 15 miles from the house. We had to turn around and come back home. We went to our local rental car agency and tried to get a truck so we could store everything in the back, but we ended up with a mini van. The mini van turned out to be the perfect vehicle. Everything was unloaded out of my car and loaded into the van. It all fit perfect, so off we went. I obsessed about my car for over an hour and then had to take a pill for my anxiety. What if we killed my car? What if she wouldn't start when we got back? What if I had to come up with $3k to get her fixed. She is all I have and my time with my kids and my employment rides on me having a vehicle.
My boyfriend did pretty good at not tailgating and watching his speed. He knows I have ginormous control issues with being a passenger, but I wasn't sure I wanted to drive the whole trip.
I only grabbed the car door a dozen or so times.
We made it to the camp ground and got set up super fast. We have done this enough to have it down pat. We were making dinner shortly after getting there. Then anxiety number 2 hit me. The water surrounding the campsite is super high and fast this year due to our snow pack. My boyfriend and his kids were right at the edge looking at the rushing water. They even through some sticks in and watched how fast the floated away. I fucking could not breathe knowing the ground near the edge was saturated with water and could give way at any moment. I rushed them away from the edge, but saw kids playing near it unattended and just couldn't stop the rush of mental images of someone sliding in. The water was moving so fast that anyone would be swept away before you could save them. I couldn't take another pill so I had a drink. Then I had a second. Then it was time for bed.
The day had been good, but extremely stressful for me.
The next day we headed to the hot springs for the day. This was my day to relax. It was heaven. I sat in the warmth of the sun and spent a lot of time in the water. To finish the day we went back in the evening for one final soak before bed. We got our monies worth out of the day pass.
Before heading home, we made a side trip. I hated the side trip. It is up the side of a mountain, with no guard rail and just barely wide enough with some of the large vehicles and the ones pulling trailers. My side had the steep drop off. Several miles of the awful drop off. I physically move myself as close to the center of the car as humanly possible and close my eyes and I pray. I prayed a lot of this trip. I had ugly thoughts of wanting to find my boyfriends weakness and exploit it so he could be as scared as I was.
Our drive home was near the water, and again, the anxiety pill not kicking in all I could imagine was our car plunging into the water and us not having the tool that shatters the window so we could swim out to reach the surface. Not that it would really matter as we had no life jackets on and wouldn't be able to catch a breath with the white caps thrashing us around. This is my life and the part of my life that I don't like to talk about due to how bat shit crazy it sounds. But this is my life.
My anxiety is way worse when I am away from my comfort zone at home. It just builds on itself a hundred fold.
We are home and I am still reliving much of my anxiety. I don't know how many days it takes for the fear to subside, but it still very much in the fore front of my consciousness. I just endlessly replay it.
I knew, I just knew. But even knowing in my gut couldn't prepare me for the text from my daughter that she works midday Monday and Tuesday, our first few camping days. I have to take her to her dad today Sunday so she can get ready for her first day. Meaning she misses tonight's Art Walk and dinner out. I am not even sure I will get to spend any of our vacation together, nor her birthday which I had scheduled to be the final day of vacation.
My heart is very heavy, which I know is very selfish. I don't care. That is where my head is at. My boyfriend asked if I still wanted to go with him and his kids. Normally if my kids flake out on plans or aren't here, I don't want to go see them be a family when mine isn't around. But for the first time I am going to go for me. I need a break. Sitting in the hot springs for two days sounds like heaven. My back hurts and my feet hurt from working the bagging job all last week. I am going to go so I don't sit at home crying and being sad.
My son will be staying home as he could get called in to the recruiting office at any time this week to work. I already knew he wouldn't be able to or want to do any of our plans. This is his final week of freedom for 13 weeks.
So, here I sit pissed, angry, disappointed, hurt and good and mad. The bipolar part of me really wants to be mean and cutting to my daughter and remind her I gave her the fucking dates and repeatedly told her to request them off. I want to be ugly and lash out. I can feel it down to my core. I want to tell her I am disappointed so she hurts like I do. I keep reminding myself that I am better than that. I am in control of what I say and do. Doesn't mean it isn't there.
My mind is racing and obsessed already stressing next years vacation and how to plan it early enough so she can go and then have the entire summer to work.
And, I am trying to pack for camping. What a cluster fuck that always is. Fun once you get there, but a logistical nightmare.
I know that anger and agitation are both signs of depression and I refuse to go back there. I am loving my new job. 4 or 8 hours of non-stop movement and absolutely no thinking other than trying to sort the groceries into categories for bagging. It is a good escape.
My Angel Card this moring is Release and Surrender.
"We shower you with blessing of our radiant love. Open your arms, and release the challenges that you've held tightly gripped within your hands. Open your hands, arms, and heart to our love and assistance."
How spot on is that card for my life today? Does the card speak to your struggles as well?
My daughter got the job. I am both excited for her and angry that it had to happen now. She is trying to work up the nerve to tell me they are going to want her to start immediately and that she cannot go on vacation with me. I had looked forward to this for months and in one swoop it is all being taken away. That is the truth of how it feels. I am feeling selfish. This isn't fair. It is not okay. I am not there yet. Being okay with this will take time and it looks like I will have plenty of time to myself to process how quickly her teenage wants trump my mom wants. I only have two more years until she is gone, like her brother, out being an adult. Just fucking sucks.
It has been a bit since I sat down to write what has been going on. I have been up and down and very anxious. Taking on this part time job has been a huge stressor. I know I need the work and I need the money but it is just so much on an already taxed system.
I have spent a couple of days on the computer watching safety videos and taking endless test. I didn't pass them all the first go round, but had the opportunity to retake them. That was super nerve racking. There were test on chemical spills, what gloves to wear for what type of work, missing children and active shooter. It was a lot to take in.
I logged onto the schedule system and saw that my vacation dates had been ignored and I was scheduled to work next week. I got so sick to my stomach. WTF was I supposed to do. I don't like being the squeaky wheel and don't really want to be singled out. I worked myself into a tizzy and then decided to head in to speak to the HR Manager. I was greeted with irritation that this information had not been told to her prior by the outgoing Manager who I interviewed with and whom told me my vacation wouldn't be a problem since it had already been paid for. Then the HR Manager called up my Manager who I had yet to meet. So our first meeting was me asking for special priviledge on day 3. After everyone calmed down, it was decided that my vacation would be okay and we would all just move on.
Crisis averted, but I was still really upset that this was my first impression.
The HR Manager then wrote out my schedule for the week. I would start bagging the very next morning.
The next morning I got up and got ready and was ready early like I always am. I screwed around and then finally head out the door to just sit and wait in the parking lot so I wouldn't be late. When it got close to time to clock in, I went and stood by the time clock like everyone else. One of the ladies who had been in my training class was there and we chatted about her firsts day. She then said "okay, two minuted til 9:00 o'clock so we can finally clock in."
My face flushed and I couldn't swallow. I was supposed to start at 8:30 am not 9:00 am. OMFG I had totally screwed up. I had been on autopilot as I have started at 9 am for a very long time prior, years in fact. I clocked in and tried to decide what to do. My Manager wasn't there and had assigned me to someone to teach me for the morning. So, I followed my teacher and started my day. Every couple of minutes the fear and shame would ride over me. Each minute that passed my head told me that there was no fixing it now. I had opportunities to tell someone but I couldn't raise the courage to do so.
My shift ended and I went home. I cried and couldn't stop the racing thoughts telling me I was going to be fired. I rehearsed and rehearsed in my head what I would say and what I knew my Manager would say. I played this horrible game all damn day. I called my sister to tell her how badly I had fucked up. She told me it would be okay. My boyfriend told me it would be okay. Hearing that did not keep me from replaying this movie all night long and into the next day. I didn't have to be at work until 4:30 pm that day and was planning to tell them how I could be punished right up until I verbally and awkwardly spit up my confession to the HR Manager. She could tell how stressed I was and she giggled a bit. She said it would be fine and that this happens from time to time as schedules change throughout the week.
I looked at her like a deer in the headlights. What? I wouldn't be fired? No being written up? No being put on strict probation? She again said it would be fine and to focus and finish my video training and then head back down to the floor.
It took a while for my energy to wind down after a day and a half of extreme anxiety.
This job is super busy. There is only about 30 seconds between one customer and the next. You stand hunched over bagging as fast as you can for most of your shift. There is also running to grab carts when you run out. No time to think, just bag. I like that I don't have to think and won't bring work stress home every night. It will be a good job and I am really glad I didn't get fired.
The reason I took on that this job is this month I lose half of my child support as my son is joining the military! I am simultaneously excited for him and nervous for him. I am mourning how quickly 18 and a half years has flown by. I thought there would be more time. The high school years went by so fast. There was so much happening each and every year. Some years I was just happy to survive with him. Some years I was thrilled to see him thrive. Now all I will have is glimpses here and there and way to short visits (hopefully). Seeing him every day is now over. One week from now he is gone for what is going to feel like is forever.
I feel like my world is spinning and I am completely off kilter about to fall on my ass.
Now it seems I may lose all of my child support as my daughter wants a part time job. Problem is most of the time the schedule is made a few days in advance and I may be working when her shift is ending. Might not be so bad, but she is finding work up in the mountains where her dad lives. Her solution was to just spend weekends with me, but I know that soon she will be booked to work on weekends and I won't get to see her at all.
My heart is breaking that she won't be in her room being a teenager. She won't be in her room at all. It is a lot to take in. I am having to remind myself that I am her mom whether or not I get to see her with any regularity. I will always only be a phone call away. It just makes me sad and upset that is all for a job and some spending money. I wish I didn't need my job to stay afloat or I would be able to drop her off and pick her up. For those of you thinking, why Melissa why doesn't she just get a car and drive herself? Because it could be as much as $300 a month for car insurance and an unknown amount for her to get a car. Again, my mind is racing with thoughts and emotions that I do not want to be feeling.
"This to shall pass is" and "stay in this moment" are my current mantras. She could hate it and choose to quit quickly or she could love it and work permanently. All I can do is guess what the future will bring. I am super proud of her for wanting and searching out the job, I just wish it was down here. Her boyfriend, her friends and her school are all up in the mountains, so I guess it was only time tell what this change brings for our relationship.
Finally, I had my med check/therapy appointment. It was the best of times and the worst of times. I do not enjoy therapy and the digging. I did however need to cry my eyes out at all of the change consuming me all at once.
My psych nurse prescribed a med to help stop my hand tremor and that is used to fight panic attacks. That was a blessing. I had to be weened off xanax two years ago and have struggled with awful panic attacks since then. I am so grateful to have a new med in my arsenal that works quickly and that can be taken at any point needed versus taking every day. I feel like I have my xanax back!
That about wraps up my week. Next week I am on vacation and that stress is already starting. We are going camping and I am having to think about sleeping bags, food, activities and my snoring driving everyone crazy. Seems I have a little more stress to contend with before I spend my day soaking in the hot springs!
Say a prayer for me, that I can keep my shit held together.
ADHD vs Bipolar
Could this be you? Have you ever wondered if you have been misdiagnosed? This is a great article that spells out the distinctions between ADHD and Bipolar.
"Approximately 20 percent of people with ADHD also suffer from bipolar disorder, a serious mental illness characterized by depressive and manic episodes. Since both conditions share symptoms, but ADHD is more common, bipolar disorder is often missed or misdiagnosed."
"Approximately 60 to 70 percent of people with bipolar disorder also have ADHD."
BY ADHD EDITORIAL BOARD, JANICE RODDEN, ROBERTO OLIVARDIA, PH.D.
Click here to read the full article.
I love this! It is so true. I need to keep this on my bulletin board as a truth I need to be ever present of. I know there are so many more ways to tell, but this one rings true for me. Each big, often bad decision I have made in the last 10 years started with me trying to block everyone else's ideas and thought out so I could hear my own. Problem is later down the road, I could see clearly how much I had listened to my core group of friends. Here I sit now, dazed and confused trying to fix or repair the damage I have done. I want to be open to really hearing what my support group has to tell me. So, I guess if I can sit and listen, then I shouldn't be manic.
This is a piece I wrote in January of 2015 on my Divorce Blog. It decided to speak to me today. How many of you try and keep the peace worried about disrupting everyone else's world? Especially when you know you already overburden your family with your illness. Guilt and fear are a mean mistress.
Sunday evening I got a group email from Danielle LaPorte titled Swallowing your words, paying rent in hell, and maintaining appearances. Why we make (unhealthy) compromises.
"We compromise -- we swallow our words, keep paying rent in hell, and maintaining appearances, because we're afraid that we won't get what we really want if we... really tell the fucking truth, choose joy over pain, and show up as ourselves. But if we don't really tell the fucking truth, choose joy over pain, and show up as ourselves... we'll never get what we really want."
Her words have been swirling around in my mind sweeping over my thoughts & memories.
I am a swallower.
I swallow down my truth.
I swallow down my words.
I swallow down my emotions: anger, cutting words, disappointment, rage, fear, and sadness.
I also swallow down my decisions. I do not like finding the courage to speak my truth or my decision and being faced with defending & explaining them.
I have not yet become comfortable just stating, "My gut tells me this is the best decision for me."
My experience has been that if I can't properly defend my choice or if my argument is not based mostly in facts then I am invalid, that I am wrong. I did not grow up in a home being told that decisions should be made based on your gut feelings and that you can trust them. I was not told it is okay to make mistakes, that they are part of the learning process. I did not learn that facts are what you use to justify your choices to other so they will agree with you and leave you alone to live your life.
I did not grow up in a home where things made sense. I grew up in an home of alcoholics where it was best to not rock the boat, where mistakes were huge problems, where logic was slurred and irrational and where excuses were made for every one and every thing.
Learning that I am a swallower late in life has made my body very sick. Swallowing down has taken a huge toll on my body physically.
I am an enabler & co-dependent, aka a fixer. Give me a mess and watch me take action. Give me someone else's emotions to tip toe around, while ignoring my own and I sigh a huge relief because I know this game and have played it hundreds of times. Shuffle shit up, Tetris shit into the closet and close the door (and pray no one opens it), if I move fast enough and keep all of the plates spinning, then my life seems normal. From a distance, with your head cocked slightly to the left, with the sun in your eyes, it appears that my life is freakin fab-u-lous and parts are.
That is the kicker, some parts always are fabulous.
I am beginning to see that when I feel the need to weigh the good against the bad, I need to set the scale down and walk away. Nothing I want in my life should require me to make a list of whether or not the good out weighs the bad. Finding myself sitting there with list in hand needs to be a huge sign that my life is completely out of whack and that I have made several, bad compromises and swallowed too much down.
What do I fear will be the outcome if I said and did what I need to do? I am afraid I will upset the world, that I will send those I love into a downward spiral from which they will never recover. I am afraid that I will have to explain myself. I am worried that without my assistance, the people I love's worlds will crash and burn. I am afraid I will be blamed. I am afraid I will be deemed unworthy & unlovable. I am afraid that I will be judged selfish & ungrateful. I am afraid that I will find out that I am nothing special. I am afraid that if I only focus on me, then I will have no one to blame when I fail.
I am afraid I will fail and everyone will tell me I should have just "made do".
The problem right now is that things have been churning and burning for long enough that I can feel the bubbling up that means an eruption is near. I wish that I could push it all back down and take the time to deal with one swallowed issue at a time, but that is not how the science of this works.
So, some shit is about to explode up & out of me and it is never pretty like volcano erupting on Discovery Channel, unfortunately, it is much more like projectile vomiting from a horror movie.
The only cure for swallowing is speaking my truth and while I am taking small unsteady steps that direction, I have decades of unconscious habitual swallowing to rehab. Each morning I wake up with the clear thought in my head that today I will speak my truth, all day, not just when it is easy. Some days I speak my truth all day and it feels really good. Some days I swallow so much you can hear my guts rumbling from two rooms away, but each day I wake up remembering that it is a new day. Each day I start again.
All I know to do is to keep showing up.
I know that the only cure for the vomiting is to say what I need to, without fear.
It is my truth and if I want other's to love and accept me, then I have to love and accept me too!
For more of Danielle's insight & inspiration, head over to her web site http://www.daniellelaporte.com/
On Thursday nights I take my son to practice. It is too far away for me to travel back home after dropping him off. There is also the added stress of some weeks they need to be taken to another location to run track. So I sit. Now that it is finally getting to 90 degrees in Colorado Springs, I was baking in the car. I have leather seats which just make it worse. I was sweaty from head to toe. I felt so gross and nasty. Three hours of marinating in my own sweat just put me in a foul mood.
I was pleased to be greeted by a happy, chatty child at the end of the practice.
It's the little things, right?
Good article for adding Probiotics to your med regimen. Click here to read.
I fill my prescriptions at my local Walmart. I signed up for their text notifications. Every month it shoots me a text to order my meds. All I have to do is type "ALL". Then two days later I begin receiving text telling me I can come in and pick them up. I ignore the first 5 days worth of text as I normally have a little bit left. When I got today's text I noticed it showed a low, low dollar amount, which let me know that I would not be picking up all of my meds. Damn, damn, damn. One of the meds I take feels like the most important as it helps me sleep. I cannot go without this med. I drive down there and fortunately the two prescriptions they have for me are my lamotrigine and my quetiapine for sleep!!!
I was informed that for the other two, the would fax my doctor to get a new prescription three times before they called her. I strongly feel for a group of ill people who tend to fight taking our damn meds, that the pharmacy should note what meds we are taking and take preemptive steps to help us not screw up our med schedule.
I know I am dreaming, but now I have to call my doctor and admit I haven't been paying attention to the front of the bottles that state how many refills I have left. I also know that when my prescriptions run out, that I probably have an appointment scheduled and I seem to have forgotten, again, to write down when we agreed to see each other next. I need to ask her to write it down for me and sticky note it to my forehead.
I just took a break for typing and went to go search all of the pockets in my purse and found her business card and on the back is my appointment, July 9 at 2 pm! Yay for me, I am not a 6 time loser in forgetting my appointment!!!!
So, now all I have to do is call her to let her know that Walmart will be faxing her to get my abilify and lithium prescription so we can keep me on rails of sanity and off the crazy train.
Now that I am thinking of my appointment, I believe we agreed to make this the expensive appointment and have it be a therapy appointment and not my regular med check. I will tell you that I do not like therapy. All I do is sit there and cry and have snot bubbles explode out of my nose. She sounded like if I didn't do therapy that she would drop me. I haven't found cheap therapy yet. Honestly, I haven't been looking. I like writing compared to typing. When I cry while writing, it feels right and cathartic because no one is watching me. I really hate being looked at. I had thought I would do the online therapy, but they still want to look at you.
Anyhow, that is my sob story for today. I promise I am really not sobbing today, just irritated that I have to go back to Walmart to get my other pills later this week.
People, remember 4th of July is next week and that many pharmacies will be closed. Don't be like Mental Melissa and wait until July 3rd to fill those prescriptions! Sticky note to the forehead!!!
"Love how the light hits your life." Danielle LaPorte
For those of us who barely made it through the Winter, we did it, we made it to Summer Solstice! It is Saturday and I got up and out for a two mile walk. I keep forgetting to take my cash as I pass a farmers market on Saturday walks. It doesn't matter that I am walking to keep my energy high and to lose some of this weight, I would bee line straight for the fresh bread stand.
In Colorado, we still have not made it to summer. It is cold and overcast and dreary. When we get an hour of sunshine, I dart out to sit in a chair to try to soak some of that goodness into my soul.
We had a couple of hours of sun light the other day and I sat watching the sun bounce off the crystals I have in the window ledges. Citrine, Amethyst, Rose Quartz and Quartz Crystal are lined up with other rocks I collect on walks and hikes.
All of the things that I could not drag myself out of bed to do this winter will suddenly seem possible and easy. Even something as simple as shaving my legs. I want to wear shorts because it will get hot and I will shave my legs every couple of days. During the winter I may have shaved once a month. I truly could have cut my leg hair and donated it to a charity. I just couldn't manage it.
I understand that summer can bring on mania for some of us, and I certainly don't want that, but I would like to spend a couple of months in that place that is neither up nor down, but just slightly higher than baseline. I want to enjoy some energy and desire.
As the sun finds it's way to Colorado, I will start to notice how much better my mood gets. I will have more energy. I will want to sit outside on my porch and watch my neighbors evening walks. I will sit in the backyard and soak up sun, even though I will never tan. I will however cherish every moment of warmth on my skin.
So feeling this quote today. "Even when I'ms in a really great steady and stable place...I'm clinically bipolar, so that always exist - a darkness always exist." Mary Lambert
I am okay. I feel okay. I got out of bed. I got showered. I ate breakfast. I have been productive at work this morning. Yet I feel it. The anxiety feels like a warning that my "normal" will be short lived. I don't know if the whirling or the bleak will come knocking. When I am normalish my anxiety tends to take the reigns and work me up with overwhelm and doom and gloom.
Here I am sitting here being all normal and yet I know it will be short lived. I don't know how to describe what I am feeling, but I can feel something. These feelings come and go, come and go.
While I can pass for normal today, I wonder if anyone around me can feel it? I am med compliant willingly because I know this provides me the greatest chance of staying stable, and my family and myself deserve stable Melissa.
Of the two, I really don't think I can handle another depression right now. It is too soon. I just came out of six months of hell. I don't want to stink and lay in bed.
Maybe I have forgotten what normal feels like and this really is it.
I wish there were tale tell signs like excessive drooling for depression and frothing at the mouth for mania. It would be so much easier.
I will give this a week or so to see how this plays out and then work my program. Step one tell my boyfriend I am off my rocker again. Step two call my psych nurse for a med check and reality check. I don't want to call too early as I hate the process and feelings of changing or adjusting meds. It is horrible.
Every day I wake up with bipolar. Every day I monitor my body and my mind. I am always looking for this disease to rear it's ugly head.
This song is on my playlist and was my jam for my walk today! Just wanted to share a bit of my happy!
NEW Podcast: I just finished a new short podcast on how I am feeling, while walking outside.
This podcast is only me rambling, not subject specific. I finished my walk listening to a music playlist I created on Spotify! I love creating playlist for walking, dancing, being mellow and just country. My playlist mimic my ups and downs.
By the end of my walk I had 12 squirrels dart into and around my feet. It kept freaking me out as I was lost in my music and yes mom, I only keep one ear bud in so I can hear whats going on around me. :)
You can listen to my podcast on Spotify or Itunes under Mental Melissa! I have over 30 podcast to keep you entertained.
I can feel it rising in my chest and flushing my face. I have been asked to do something last minute and it interrupts my well planned out day. Granted I don't have a damn thing planned today, but I didn't have all of this new stuff in my plan.
My daughter's boyfriend is having his birthday celebration with his mom today. It seems he either just remembered or just found out last night. He is still asleep and my daughter and I try to figure out when I can drop her off up in the mountains for him to pick her up. Of fucking course no one know when this ends. More rage flares up in me because who doesn't know when something it supposed to end. Now I have to battle with my daughter to pick a fucking time when she will be home since this party will never end.
My day was going to be easy, no stress. Now I am worked up to DEFCON 2 about to explode.
To make matters worse, instead of having to drop my son off to do PT with his Marine Squad at the normal time of 12 pm. Today it is at 2 pm, which is the time I need to have my daughter 30 miles away. I am making myself sick trying to figure out to to get both kids where they want and need to be on time. My kids don't understand why I am being so short with them and getting so worked up.
They both know I have bipolar, but they really don't understand all of the areas of my life it affects. They don't understand the rigidity and stability it takes to keep me balanced.
I ask my son if I can take him early, as he gets anxious if it looks like we are going to be late to anything. He likes to give me shit because normally we are very early to everything. I can't help it. I like to plan for the unknown and get places with built in fudge factor. Anyhow, he said yes to leaving early. I am hoping the stars will align and my timing plan will work out for both kids.
Where does this leave me? I am trying to calm my anger down, reminding myself that my kids haven't done anything wrong. They simply asked to have their afternoon plans approved. I know they are not trying to anger me. I don't think they understand that both of them need to be somewhere at the exact same time. I don't think they really care about the other person's needs.
I am trying to calm down my anxiety. It won't disappear until I have accomplished the plan and they are both on time to where they want to be. Even then, the tightness in my chest won't relax for several hours after I am back home waiting to go pick my son after his work out. My daughter will get a ride back down at the end of the party, we are still discussing the time to be home.
UPDATE: She did not make it home at the agreed upon time. She texted 20 minutes from the time and asked for more time. I had already taken my pills so I could not order her home or threaten to come get her. I am trying to keep my calm this morning and failing waiting to talk to her. I could yank her out of bed, and I want to, but I know that I will explode and that is not the mom I want to be.
Parenting on meds, with mental illness is ugly and not for the faint of heart or the big ego.
Breathe in, breathe out, hyperventilate and try again.