It always seems that when I have something to look forward to, something comes up medically or otherwise and I can not inevitably handle the fact that I can’t handle it. Today, for example, I was supposed to sing a cappella for #SingForMentalHealthAwareness so there’s some stress right there and then have coffee with a friend who has been a friend of mine since the 5th grade but I haven’t seen her since her marriage about 5 years ago. I, however, following doctor’s instructions had to up 3 medications last night. I figured that since I’ve done the upping before, I’d be fine. However, my anxiety flew threw the roof because of my increasing anxiety in general and because of the medications that I was honestly nervous about ruining my day with my friend. Those medications, which are sedative had their full effect (which I did not expect…maybe, I kind of did). I felt like a horrible friend having to let her know and a more horrible cat mom in the morning when I realized that Toby had been walking on me for at least two hours trying to get me to wake up to feed him. Bad.Cat.Mom. I spent my day sleeping, setting my alarm to feed my cat and take more medications, sleep some more, and trying to eat random little things even though I didn’t feel like eating a thing. Nausea.
**TRIGGER** Bipolar is weird. I spend most of my time in really dark depressions where nearly every thought is of suicide: all day, every day. A lot of people don’t understand this because I put up such a good front because I’ve been acting my whole life. But then you’re out of it flying high and being reckless still thinking of suicide too. Driving recklessly, for me, I still think of others and will not be careless with others around. Doesn’t make sense does it? My anxiety and depression has been getting worse as of late as I’ve developed a sort of agoraphobia to go along with them. My PTSD has been kicking in more and I seem to be getting more panic attacks, so I guess that’s something new to talk about as well as the migraines.
It was nice to have a catharsis in music and opera, but when I developed GERD and lost the ability that I did have, it really damaged me. It’s so strange thought because any time I go on a stage, there is no anxiety at all – none. I wonder if that’s how it is with performers sometimes? So many people tell me that I need to get out back on stage but I don’t think I’m very good at Improv which I’ve been trying (I’m too much of a perfectionist), I never seem to fit the molds of the characters directors have in mind (I also already think no one likes me which is my own character flaw but I WILL audition for the Christmas show), and I don’t know how to do much behind stage because I like to be on the on-stage action and get a tad bit jealous. LoL!
I do write poetry. Maybe I should look for poetry nights around town. I just don’t have many friends anymore. I’ve shut pretty much all of them out or they’ve moved away and that makes me feel worse about myself. I’m just looking for “my people”… I need to get out and I don’t feel like I should be holding back all that I have been for so, so very long.
Eh, enough of that. Here’s something to leave with you: