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You can ascertain a great deal of information regarding my mental stability at any period of time simply by paying attention to how I act when I wake up in the mornings. When I'm in a dark funk or a spiral or a depression or whatever you choose to label it, my dark moodiness seems to amplify with a full night's sleep. I think it's because I am plagued by these weird repetitive panic driven nightmares during times of high stress, which: *gestures wildly. Normally, I'm not what you would call chipper in the mornings, but neither am I overly likely to feed you into a wood chipper. When I'm in a low place as I am right now however, there's no two ways about it: I am rather insufferable upon waking. I am simultaneously needy and whiny and impatient and screechy and also very easily frustrated by the simplest of things. Bleary eyed, stumbling like I've got a hangover without even the small pleasure of having earned that hangover the night before. I wake up feeling like my whole being is road rash. Soul deep contusions, all red meat and exposed nerves, heartbeat twitch. Everything bothers. Everything confounds. Everything annoys. I am almost outside my own self at times in a way, which is to say that my internal dialogue (all the separate internal dialogues, that is) is telling me “hey psycho, calm the fuck down” but somewhere between one synapse and another, that message gets shorted out. Zzzzapp! Suddenly the message just says “…psycho…fuck!” I would be so horrified if any of you lovely people ever witnessed me in that state. When I'm like this, I am a hair-trigger grenade seconds away from total meltdown at any given moment during my first thirty minutes of consciousness.
You see, I have something about me that's not quite up to spec. Some malady or quirk or DSM diagnosis that I live with. I've never officially went out of my way to have a label applied to it. I suppose some of that comes from the fact that bad experiences with Christian “counselors” in my youth led to me having certain issues of trust when it comes to taking life advice from someone whose connection to reality is tenuous at best. I mean, you never really know what type of a person you're trusting your secrets to when choosing a counselor unless you have trustworthy word of mouth…and even then, one person's cup of tea might be my saucer of spoiled milk. And then there's the fact that even if they don't advertise it, they might hold deep down personal beliefs that I find abhorrent and repulsive and if that is the case, could I trust any advice they give me not to be tainted and filtered through their poisonous lens? Like I said. Trust issues.
The lack of having an official diagnosis doesn't really bother me, however. I've educated myself enough that I've unwound a lot of my tightly knotted threads DIY style, and I have some suspicions about what causes these episodic periods of dysfunction that I seem prone to occasionally. Regardless of the reasons or the labels for what ails me, I have known for quite some time that I suffer periods of time when I simply…withdraw from life to one degree or another. This is not my first time going through this cycle by a long shot, but it is the first time going through it and writing about it as I'm experiencing it in the moment. If my writing seems off or disjointed, I do apologize, but I think it will benefit me at a later time to write this all down. So I'm going to do my best to explain what I'm dealing with right now. Maybe some of you will relate…
I haven't been able to fully ascertain the exact causes for these down cycles that I go through. These blue periods of mine. Stress plays the largest part of this equation, that I am certain of, but there are other factors that come into play. Sometimes even the anticipation of upcoming exciting events (which we have had several recently) can throw me for a loop, which sounds crazy, I know. But in my case, you see, when it comes to exciting events, I anticipate them and dread them in equal measure. Sure, concerts, festivals and fairs with family is fun and exciting. I am a sincere people person at heart. I love nothing more than a huge throng of humanity with which I can meld my heartbeats and seamlessly disappear into. Every part of me longs for adventures and road trips and camping and swimming and hiking. But I can't do much of any of that these days. Not easily at least. Not without great hassle and planning and pain. So much goddamned pain. Anything longer than a single grocery store shopping trip is agonizing and exhausting. I am burdened with the knowledge that if I make the decision to do certain things, I will pay for it in more than dollars and cents.
So even the exciting things can sometimes rub the wrong way because in their aftermath I'm often reminded of what I used to be able to do so easily and eagerly while subsequently being presented with the evidence of how difficult it has become for me now. I pretend it doesn't bother me because nobody likes a whiny cripple. Most of the time it really doesn't actually bother me anymore. I've acclimated and fought out a lot of those battles internally already. But sometimes it is a small poison dagger to my heart to know I can't be the same mom to Alex as I was to Rick. Alex doesn't even remember the mom who could climb the jungle gym. He barely even met her.
So the foremost thing that I have noticed as being the harbinger of one of these episodes is that I begin to withdraw and pull away from my friends and from, well, everyone except for my children. This has made it incredibly difficult for me over the years to maintain any normal friendships. I don't set out with the intention of ghosting someone. Usually what happens is that I'll go through a depressing episode, withdraw without explanation, then torture myself in my own mind and convince myself that they are probably mad at me for disappearing. The longer I fritter about it, the worse my embarrassment is and the more likely to avoid them I become. Add in my undeserved but very visceral shame about admitting my mental instability (I'm working on it) by way of explaining my aforementioned extended absence, and you can easily see how it quickly becomes a self fulfilling prophecy.
I'm actually quite proud of myself because I'm trying to disrupt that cycle this time around. I have finally realized that I can't simply force myself to not withdraw at times. I've come to terms with that fact. But what I can control is my honesty about it with the people I am friends with. This time, when I noticed myself sliding back down into the shadows, I gave my friends a heads up and I unashamedly admitted that I have this issue. And guess what? Would it blow your mind if I told you they totally fucking got it? Because yeah, they did. Holy shit, right?!? And you know what? I lived through that just fine. My friends understood. They validated me. They assured me that they are my friends no matter how long I have to fade away. Hearing those affirmations from people I care deeply about is something close to transformational for me. My ability to be honest and to humble my doubts enough to trust has empowered me even though I'm still stuck in that red, raw exposed nerve place right now. And if I'm being honest (which seems to be the theme here) I think that approaching it this way will actually make it easier for me to climb back out of this deep dungeon of despair I'm currently inhabiting. Maybe it won't happen today. Maybe not tomorrow. But knowing that there are amazing people out there holding space for me when I don't always have the strength to show up means so much to me. That's progress, I suppose.
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Be kind. Be good to each other and yourselves. Be softness and light in this ever darkening world. I love you all! 😻 Bpnwc
BONUS ANTIFA CAT BRIGADE!!!
I believe you have more than three friends, my Dear. 🫂 I’ve been a loner all my life, always outside looking in. Always wishing I was more “normal.” 😂 I’ve grown to accept I am who I was meant to be, and within that the longing all but disappears.
You are the culmination of your life’s experiences. When your internal clock ticks wildly, and you feel out of control, it may be because you’re trying to shove the emotional pain back into the shadows where you’ve hidden it. Perhaps instead of focusing on ridding yourself of it, you could try accepting it. Seeing it as a guest who has come to you needing your warmth and affection. A short stay wherein you are both allowed to grieve until the bleeding wounds temporarily heal. Your boys love you for all of who you are, and it doesn’t matter if they can’t understand these moments. They know you’ll be back soon.
Take care of you, blue. We’ll still be here when you emerge. 😉
I know exactly how you feel. I do the Same. I have three 3️⃣ friends. They know this is how I am. Yes, I too miss how I used to be waaay back, but I can’t be that way anymore. It bugs me, but 🤷🏻♀️it is me. I have never been a morning person. I’m a terrible bitch in the a.m. Just leave me alone until I’ve eaten and had a cup of hot tea or coffee. I’m in a period of withdrawal, so I’ve not been around. Yeah, it’s depression and anxiety and I’m unsociable. Eh, I’ll shut my mouth 🤐 Hugs 🤗 Blue