fizzing energy + super depressed mood = REALLY HARD TO DEAL WITH MOOD CRAP
Was supposed to have a super busy schedule today and realized last night that there was NO WAY that I could zip from one meeting to another to another in rapid succession and hope to function. Unless my mental crap miraculously resolved itself.
Because what was going on was a lot of racing thoughts, incoherently fast speech, meaningless crying, frenzied activity... My biggest clue that it was a mood-disorder issue was that I looked up at my house and thought, "I bet if I got up on the roof I could totally get rid of some of the dead branches on the Maple tree out front." And this seemed perfectly reasonable to me. On one level. But I did stop and question if maybe I wasn't completely reliable in judging reasonable behavior (keep in mind that I am terrified of heights, I have a sloped roof, and it is covered with ice.)
And last night I also did that great thing where I can't get to sleep (awake until after 1:30 am) so I press my head against my pillow really hard to try and make myself sleep. So now my neck and shoulders are somewhat tight.
I spent forty-five minutes looking for the name badge and made my children late for school because I left too late to get them there on time. I might have, but when I went back into the house to get something I forgot that I wasn't looking for the name badge anymore and resumed frantically moving things around in an attempt to locate name badge. (Note: I do not need to wear this name badge. There will be zero consequences if I do not wear it.)
Was convinced that I could not possibly go to a work-related meeting without my name badge. That if I didn't have it I would fall to a million pieces. That not having the badge would be proof of my incompetence. And HAVING the badge (which is on a lanyard that I beaded for 40+ hours) would enable me to stay calm enough through the whole meeting without making an ass of myself.
Then cried and cried and cried and couldn't stop after dropping off all the kids. Had a bunch of semi-frightening thoughts about what it would be like if I drove my car into the railing of the bridge that crosses the Mississippi River. And what would happen when my meds didn't work or I wasn't treated and I got an idea to climb on the roof and trim a tree and I didn't realize it wasn't a reasonable idea.
And holy crap I bet this is why so many bipolar people attempt suicide and... I am pretty sure that these don't count as "thoughts of hurting yourself" like they ask at the psychiatrist's office, but what if I have those thoughts. Will I even know, or will they just seem like inevitable and sensible.
And I felt such soul-crushing pity for Spouse who would be forced to deal with my mood crap and my clearly off-the-rails thinking and wouldn't he just prefer to NOT have to deal with my crap. Wouldn't he really prefer to be a single parent rather than having me messing up his entire life.
And I couldn't tell him this-- any of the thoughts of hurting myself or thoughts of the world being a better place without me because those thoughts sound really terrifying. And who wants to be leg-shackled to a terrifying person. So the fact that I am having even idle thoughts about inappropriate self-harming behavior PROOVES that he would be better off without me.
Because I know he is a nice guy and he will stay with me "until death us do part" which means that his life will necessarily be a series of slightly-okay times followed by pitfall after pitfall after pitfall of problems that don't seem like problems but are clearly something... something...
Did I mention incoherent thinking? And words? And I kept repeating myself and stuttering and faster and faster.
So instead of continuing to drive around crying and musing on my general worthlessness as a human being and wondering if I could actually be considered unsafe to drive... I stopped to talk with a friend. Which was a super smart plan. And it helped a lot.
I lived through my meeting. Disclosed the recent mixed state crap with my boss and that was fine.
BUT I screwed up on picking up daughter on time and preschool teachers left series of increasingly worried messages on all of the phone numbers they had for us. I nearly got lost driving there. And when I ran in to pick her up I very nearly ran smack into a door instead of opening it first.
Also, I finished my book. It isn't really a trashy romance novel. It's just a romance novel. It's 222 pages or so. Still need to go through it once before I make my friend and Spouse read it for mistakes and crap.
Quaker, teacher, parent,