I missed an intake thing for a bipolar study on Thursday. I thought it was Friday. I plan to participate in a study of bipolar at the University of Minnesota. They are running two different studies right now.
One study is an attempt to test for bipolar or major depressive disorder with a blood test. I don't qualify for that one because I have not been in a depressed mood state for at least 2 weeks. I told them I would rather not become eligible for that one. The other is just kind of a big information gathering one for future study. There have been a number of cases of forgettiness in recent days. Trouble remembering words I want to say... typically a problem when I am hungry or tired. Seems more prevalent lately, although I don't think I am more tired or hungry than usual. Trying to ask younger boy where his glasses were I cam up with, "What the eyeball?" I got lost a few times. Turned around really. On my way from my house to my mom's house. Neither of them have moved in the past decade and a half. I can be forgiven the confusion on the way home due to horrific rerouting around road construction. Thank goodness for Google Maps. Confession: I am not sure how good I have been taking my meds. I plan to institute pill minder as a way of tracking this. I have been cocky since going down to a single medication once a day. Could this be a result of fuzziness or perhaps a cause of fuzziness. The world may never know. Have joined Weight Watchers to do a better job attending to my dietary and exercise needs. A friend has joined as well and we should see one another semi-regularly which is always helpful. Got glowing feedback from my Etsy customer on the cuff I sold. Still have not caught up with taking pictures of my cuffs. Oh, because I don't have a good way to upload the pictures. Dang. Still even if I just use my iphone that would be something. Trying to do a little bit of everything today: cleaning and decluttering, blogging, relaxing, homework, and eating delicious Ethiopian food. Grateful Crap: cooler weather. also lack of hurricaines in my biome. (Making vocabulary sets for my upcoming Ecology class) Equatorial Actions: meds 200 mg lamotrigine (that I KNOW I took last night) slept a bunch tracked my food for WW ate healthy crap relaxed and stuff I think it is common that I experience stress as Sad. And I think that is what is happening now. I am on the cusp of many changes. Change is stressful. New school year. New school for older son. New college classes for me.
I began this post while still hosting elder boy's friends. And I was unable to fight off the Sad. So I went out into the lake and cried. For no discernible reason. Which is where I cam up with the above Sad=Stress theory. Talked with Spouse who wondered if there was anything that would make me feel better. Couldn't think of anything. But probably talking about it helped. Now back at school for workshop week. And I became much less Sad once I was in the company of my fellow teachers. Much more calm once I had space that was mine and remembered how well I like being a teacher and how much I like my particular workplace. There are of course stressful things about returning, but it is the before time that is the source of the most stress. Before I return. Before I see people. Before I meet my students. That is when I Worry. So in some ways my stress levels have abated. A small lift. However, I am still on a hair-trigger of weepiness. So that if I feel like I have done something wrong or said something wrong (particularly at home) I am liable to fall into tears. I feel more competent in my worklife than I do in my homelife at the moment. Getting ready for the NAMI walk which is the end of September. Trying to figure out if I will try to raise any money this year. In general I HATE raising funds. Asking people to donate. Passing the hat. It runs counter to... me. I sold a cuff on my ETSY site which made me happy. It also made me realize that I am WAY behind on taking pictures and posting cuffs that I have on hand. So there isn't much in the online store but there is a fair amount in my inventory. New college classes start today. I am meant to be looking at the assignments right now. But instead I am not. Am posting here, which is also important. Still want to figure out some regular habit of posting. I feel like a joke for not posting daily. But I also feel like setting a goal of daily posting is likely not reasonable for me while working full time. Much easier when I had time to myself while children were at school. Daily writing built in while hanging out at the library outside daughter's preschool. To sum up: I am Sad but not SUPER Sad. I am Stressed but not STRESSED. There are a number of things that I would like to accomplish but I don't feel the pressure to get them all done NOW. P.S. I crocheted 3 rugs. Made from T-shirts cut into strips. Two rugs are six feet long and fairly narrow. One is just a small oval. I have some T-shirt yarn left over and feel like I should keep making rugs until it is gone. But I don't really enjoy the process and I would much rather get to beading. So I might just not. Equatorial Actions Meds: 200 mg lamotrigine Getting up earlier (so I can go to school) Working I know it is supposed to just be the thing that holds me to the Earth and keeps me from floating off into space, but it feels like more. A force that exerts a vast amount of pressure and then keeps you down. I am Sad and because of that I am focusing on things that will make me more Sad. I have been asked to modify the description of my presentation... so that it is clearer what I will be speaking about. I am tempted to just say that I won't present rather than working with the organizers who said they are willing to work with me on tightening up the language. I am hosting 5 8th graders for three days of unprogrammed fun. And I am worried that I am not a social director. And I am not planning enough activities. And that they are not having a good time. Which is dumb because they are having a blast. I was worried before that we wouldn't have enough food. Now I am worried that we have too much food. I feel at once too lenient and too strict. They are very nice 8th graders and other than the fact that they are LOUD I have no complaints. Also, I am in the slough of despond over current events. For truly there ariseth in my soul many fears, and doubts, and discouraging apprehensions, which all of them get together, and settle in this place. The fact that there are more than 2 Nazis in my country. "Homegrown terrorists." And I keep thinking that there is just nothing. Nothing that will ever work and they will just keep expanding their hatred and terror and intimidation with guns and shouts and handsome well-manicured smug-talking spokespeople who pretend that this is normal. Violence is not the answer. Because. Silence is not the answer. Yelling fuels the fires. Speaking softly gathers no audience. And as ever I am in my same old position as a privileged white person. And I read so many bits of advice that everyone has to give everyone else on the basis of their identity. Because you are white, you should or should not do... These broad generalizations. And a lot of accusatory: don't say that "this is not me." Don't say "not all white people." And I gotta say those are two pretty unhelpful and kind of asshat-sounding things to say. I don't feel called to DO anything or SAY anything. I just want to crawl somewhere dark and quiet and cry and cry and cry. Because I am afraid that this is the new normal. That horrible people will do horribly violent things. That people who oppose them will disagree on how to oppose them and spend a lot of time tearing each other apart. Which will just open a wider wedge for the horrible people to expand their agenda of violence and hatred. So. Existential angst. How adolescent. Perhaps I am too immersed in the land of 8th graders. Perhaps I have not slept enough. Perhaps I have to not eaten things other than caramel rolls and coffee with hazelnut creamer. I want to read my escapist fiction book (re-re-rereading Tad Williams's Dragonbone Chair series) but I know that when I get to the end of the last book I will be sad. Because the series will be done. Being weepy while hosting six 8th graders is inconvenient. Have not yet wept. Don't think I will. But it tickles just behind my eyes and I can feel the weight of unshed tears like a mask just under my skin. I actually titled this post before I looked up the term, but it seems somehow fitting... hard-start. Noun. (plural hard starts) An explosion in a rocket engine during startup, usually due to the presence of too much propellant prior to ignition. I am feeling both frazzled and Down Down Down this morning. Partly because my real regular life is creeping up on me and I feel like I have to do EVERYTHING RIGHT NOW.
Partly because I am feeling particularly un. Uninspired, Uncompetent(!), Unloveable, Unpleasant, Unfounded, Unprepared, Unhappy, Uneffective... I got notified that my proposal to present at a professional conference has been accepted "with minor edits" to the description. And they really are minor. But I interpreted the comment as saying that I had no idea what I was talking about and I really shouldn't have applied and they were only letting me in because they didn't have enough presenters. Which could be true. And then I thought Holy Crap I have nothing to say. I will stand in front of my peers and a croaking sound will come out of my mouth. Or I will speak perfectly articulately and there will be the sound of crickets chirping. I have 15 years of teaching experience, teaching licenses in three different areas, I have teaching experience at levels kindergarten - adult... but I feel unqualified to speak. Then I read about proposed point system to be used to screen new immigrants and discovered that I would not be allowed into the country given my score (figures). 22 points. 30 is required. And saw that Sinead O'Connor had posted a particularly distressing cry for help with regards to her mental health. And it sometimes (mostly) it is not helpful for me to see people struggling with mental health crap when I am not on an even keel. Why I don't read recovery blogs. And I felt like I was drowning in slow syrup. Slowly sinking in viscous liquid. That won't ever cause me to submerge. Just kinda stuck. Plowing in slow motion. Trying to accomplish tasks that should be easy... I need to call health care professional for my son/s. They don't have anyone right now and although neither is in a crisis, I explained to them that I would like to find them someone (for their depression and anxiety) so that when they having more trouble we won't be... stuck. These are upcoming things that I am circling with worry:
And I feel grossly incompetent to accomplish anything at the moment. Have been spending too much time doing nothing. But not really. I don't think. I think I have done a lot of things. But there are other things that I have not done. And I spend a lot of time feeling guilty about that. I have been a bad friend and a bad Friend. Missing Quaker worship. Which I will miss again this weekend. When there is no First Day School (Sunday programming for children) I tend not to go. Partly because I want to "enjoy time with my family" or not ditch spouse with all the kids. Or I am too lazy to get up. Meanwhile I have crocheted 1.5 six-foot rugs in the last week using strips of old T-shirts. And although I am not really enjoying the process it is all I want to do so I can just Be Done With The Project. I think I am developing a blister on the palm of my hand. Ugh. I do not like this feeling. I wish there were magical pills. Not narcotics. Actual magic. With no downside and that wouldn't produce euphoria necessarily. They would just counteract BLAH. I guess I will have to settle for caffeine. My coffee is ready. A friend posted some advice she received about her anxiety. When she felt anxious she should just tell herself that she feels excited. Because the physical sensations are similar but it doesn't have the loaded self-fulfilling prophecy that ANXIETY has.
So how about instead of telling myself that I feel like I am experiencing some of the Downs, I try and talk myself into thinking that I am just very calm. Except that I am tired and cranky. And I feel undercaffeinated. Like coming down off a weeks-long hypomanic bender. Which I am. I want to do nothing, now. I want to drink coffee and eat ice cream and sleep for twenty hours. (While also crocheting a 20 foot long rug made from old T-shirts. I have almost one foot done. Perhaps I should do the rug in several segments. I think it might be a chore to wash such a long rug.) I feel horribly hollow and sad. And like nothing I am doing is good enough. Which is unfortunate because right now I am preparing a one-hour presentation for opening week of my school. And I find myself imagining all of the teachers sitting in their chairs watching me with poorly disguised boredom. Or contempt. And rolling their eyes. Note: this is really not the sort of behavior I have any reason to expect from my colleagues. I am just a bit tender at the moment. Much stuff is going on... the last few days of hosting a student from China. Family visiting from out of town. I scheduled a dental visit for next week for a regular cleaning which I haven't had in a really long time. Because of anxiety. And so I am anxious. No... excited. I am excited about the dental visit. And about presenting to my colleagues. And I am calm about not being done with all things that I want to get done. Calm about whatever I am about to read in the newspaper. Calm about the world in general. Grateful Crap: I don't know. Weather. Equatorial Actions: eating stuff (like a potato/basil/sundried tomato frittata) sleeping (but I feel like I need to sleep A LOT MORE) taking meds (200 mg lamotrigine) |
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K. BuchananQuaker, teacher, parent, |