happy birthday to me

it’s here. happy birthday to me, I suppose. I survived another year of living with myself, of beating myself up and despising who I am and what I haven’t accomplished.

a friend has to postpone birthday hangouts last night. instead, a different friend came over last night and gave me a few gifts. I skipped the gym this morning. I have had a few wishes her at work; I’ve received a few texts from my Louisiana folk too. then there’s an unrelated work hangout this afternoon. in the evening, I’m going to Noodles and Company with a third friend; he will probably pay, knowing him. then tonight I’ll cry myself to sleep. Saturday, Brian will take me to dinner and to see Joseph and the Technicolor Dreamcoat. at some point, I know I’ll get a gift from another friend who always sends something.

 

I wanted to cry when I woke up this morning. I really hoped that my gift from The-Powers-That-Be would be my not waking up finally. alas.

my sleeping issues have returned. I’m not sure what’s up with that. I mentioned to Brian about going back to a sleep specialist, and he agreed that it was a good idea.

my depression is worse, too; but that typically happens around my birthday.

I haven’t been to therapy in several months. she had a health issue that kept her out of work. she wants to meet Sep 2. I liked what work we were doing when we were actually doing it. but her constantly cancelling and rescheduling appointments was a real pain, and I had decided that I wouldn’t go back. but now, with the state I’m in, maybe I should. for now, at least. …man, I dunno.

I got a UTI last week. haven’t been back to my kickboxing since then. I know that’s not helping my mood any. I also ran out of my fibro and my axiety meds two weeks ago. so that’s taking a toll.

 

overall things should be great for me. but I’m crazy, and things are not good in my Mind.

so yeah. happy birthday to me.

Advertisements

medication, relationships, and disassociations

oops.  so I’ve managed to not take my morning medications almost every day this week (my most important meds are my morning ones, of course).  also, I’ve forgotten my evening meds numerous times in the last two weeks.  however, I’ve been fairly good about my mid-day meds — naturally, because those are the least important of the three.  ~sighs~

I’ve been totally exhausted lately.  like, before my screwing up the taking of my meds.  that’s actually what led to my forgetting to take them.  over the weekend, I just got really, really tired.  then Monday morning, I sleep in until I absolutely have to wake up for work, and I forget to dope myself up while I rush getting ready.  and it just happens like that every morning for the rest of the week.  today included.

Brian called me while I was on my way to work because he noticed I forgot my meds.  I’d be late if I had turned around though.  and I just also didn’t give a fuck about going back to take them.  “it’s not like they’re doing much good anyway”, half-sleepy me told myself as I steered with one knee, guzzled an energy drink with one hand, and shoved eggs into my mouth with the other hand.  (the second knee was attached to the foot reserved for the gas and brake pedals.  I have to get creative whenever I need each a hand and a foot/knee/leg for the shifting and powering the clutch.)  so I just thanked him, and kept going away from home.

I’ve been frustrated with him for a day or so now.  he did tiny thing A that is a big thing to me, and I noticed I had an emotional response about it.  I did my best not to have an emotional reaction, and I only kinda succeeded.  but then I beat myself up for having emotions at all.  I typically get very angry at myself when and because I’m angry at him.  and of course, during all this, I don’t tell him shit, because I don’t want him to start feeling bad about having peeved me off.  but he inquired this morning, and I was just like, “let’s talk about this when I’m not running late for work, okay?”

second thing I really wanted to discuss here (venting about Brian kinda snuck in here, lol) is my disassociation qualities returning.  I’m getting “that feeling” again wherein I’m not Me.  I’m multiple peoples living in a single body, so take turns sharing the physical cage.  I “see” myself doing and saying things.  I’m over-analyzing my actions in a very particular way — not so much “objective” as it is disjointed and disconnected.

maybe it’s the lack of medication in my system.  maybe it’s the two energy drinks a day I take just to stay awake.  maybe it’s whatever started making me so tired over the weekend.

maybe it’s finally time for a Cycle change, and I’m going to go into a mania soon.  that would be a nice change of pace.  I haven’t had a proper (hypo-)mania in a while.  though I doubt it, given all the additional sleep I’ve been needing.

one thing I’m going to discuss at therapy is how I’m so Tired.  like, when she or my psychiatrist ask me about how this is going or what I feel about that, I just wanna look at them and say, “I don’t know. I’m too Tired to think about an analyze it.”  an me being too tired to analyze something — not a good sign.

I suppose that’s all for now.  I’m just really off kilter.  and because I don’t know the cause, I can’t even pretend to come up with a solution.

a2z: Identity

I spent more of yesterday than I should have trying to decide about what to write for “I”.

I was trying really hard not to be super-depressive with this post (especially since “F”, “G”, and “H” were all gloomy), but was was rather difficult.  the first few “I” words that came to mind were “incarceration”, “indecisiveness”, “ignorance”, “issues”, “injuries”, “illusions”, “inmate”, “illegal”, “insane”, and “immoral”.  I wasn’t not a fan of any of them, of course.

so then I was pondered about the good “I” words — “imagination”, “independence”, “interdependence”,  “ingenuity”, “intelligence”, “Impala”, “Illuminati”.  but yesterday, I din’t have the energy to give any of those illustrious topics (see what I did there?) the deserved justice in writing about them.  hell, I was even all geared up to do a post about my being an INTP — but I wasn’t even sure how true that was anymore.

then it hit me, and so here we go:

 

April 2015’s Blogging A to Z:
Identity

 

I’m not going into the philosophical concept of self, because that’s not with what I’m concerned.  I’m concerned about Identity of personality.

I used to have really bad insomnia (among other sleeping disorders).  I take medication now.  which means I sometimes can actually go to sleep within an hour of laying in bed; it also means that sometimes I can stay asleep for more than 45 minutes at a time.  but I also have a slight sleep phobia.  no really, I have a semi-irrational fear of sleeping.

well, I’m scared about waking, more accurately.  too often do I go to bed one person, and wake up someone else.

my bipolar, primarily when not medicated, is rapid-cycling.  which means in a set of days to even a mere few hours, my mood can drastically swing from one end of the spectrum to the other, with no obvious motivator.

in a study about the paradigms and perspective bipolar blokes had of themselves and the world, a conflict of self-identity was common:

The participants’ descriptions of themselves reflected self-definitions shaped by their mood and other aspects of their illness, leading to experiences of confusion. Mood was a defining characteristic of self with one participant describing himself in terms of different mood states.  […]  There was recognition that mood shifts lead to cognitive and behavioral changes which one participant experienced as: “Like I actually mentally change and think differently and act differently.” These different experiences of themselves resulted in a sense of confusion for the participants over who they really were. One participant described a struggle between mood and personality: “Like I actually don’t know who I am. There’s a few kind of core things, but it’s almost like my personality was grappling with my mood.”  Additionally, confusion arose for the participants in trying to differentiate themselves from their illness: “So, I’m not sure if that was the mania or if that was just me.”  [1]

I’m scared to go to sleep some nights, because I don’t know who I’ll be in the morning.  will I be James the Greatest, the loud boisterous manic lass who gets a lot of shit done?  or will I be a timid, depressive form of myself, hiding in the shadows and along the crevices of the walls hoping no one notices me so I can just disappear?  will I be bored because I’ve made no grand plans for the day ahead?  or will I be overwhelmed because I have a job and friends?

and how am I going to fuck it up?  will I be so manic that I get multiple speeding tickets and make promises I can’t keep?  or will I fail at my required tasks and get myself in line for another day of fussing at work in a week or two?

if I don’t go to sleep, it’s easier to know who I am.  I can kinda tell as I change in a given moment.  well, kinda.

maybe not.

maybe I’ll never really know who I’ll ever be.

ever…?

 

Identity

 

 

Sources:

1] Inder, ML, et al.  “‘I Actually Don’t Know Who I Am’: The Impact Of Bipolar Disorder On The Development Of Self”.  Psychiatry: Interpersonal & Biological Processes 71.2 (Jun. 1, 2008): 123-133.  CINAHL Plus with Full Text.  Web.  Apr. 22, 2015.