I wasn't fine and I don't know who I was kidding.
Well, I thought I was kidding myself and I truly believe that with an extraordinary amount of dysfunction one can kid themselves into all kinds of nonsense believing.
It was like I tripped on a pile of my own insanity and fell face first into a crap load of......
Well, crap.
I felt nuts. Out of control. I felt like I did before. Before the little white pill entered my life. I was yelly and screamy and angry. I was consumed with just getting through the day without taking anyone's head off. Without losing it on the kids. Without running anyone over when they were taking too long crossing the road. Without ramming into the side of the nonstop cars that were trying to drive me mad with their lack of skills.
Everyone was annoying, aggravating, wrong. Everyone was trying to destroy me with their behaviour. Everyone else was the problem. Just like before. It wasn't me....
....it was YOU!
Well, the rational side of my brain, as tiny as it was, was telling me this could not possibly be. But the irrational side, the side in control, the side taking over, was telling me that everyone needed to die. I needed to be left alone on this earth so that everyone else would stop DRIVING ME CRAZY!
It is exhausting, being like that all the time. Just trying to calm down when every single person has crossed me to the point of rage every 32 seconds is exhausting. I would fall into my bed at the end of the day and ponder all the people I actually despised that day. Some of these people even included the man. And my children. And all those insane young adults at the university always talking, saying stupid things and walking in my way. It never ended. The level of aggravation made my heart pound all day long and my chest hurt all the time. There were times when I stopped breathing for what seemed like forever. The world was heavy and I felt like it was crushing me.
I was not fine. This was the most discouraging notion. And frustrating. I still, simply cannot understand why this is out of my control. But until I can understand it I need to save the people.
From me.
I filled the prescription. I took the new pill. And then we waited. Again.
Almost a month has passed. I feel human again. There is a lightness. I can breathe. I am not angry anymore. I can be talked to again. People don't see me and walk the other way. And by people I mean my family. And my fellow students at the university.
Wait....yes they do.
Anyway, I am still stuck in this place where understanding what "this" is and treating it with means that are not of my making is frustrating and confusing unto me. I am not sure I will ever really get it. Unless I decide to go to school forever and become a psychiatrist or a neurologist, which I have no plans to do. So I guess I'll pop the pills that disenrage me.
Apparently, these pills do not prevent me from making up words. Disenraged is a thing. It is the thing that happens to Catie when she medicates.
And the world is a better place for it.
The end.
I may have said this before, but I had a close friend with a LOT of mental health issues of her own as well as a Masters degree in counselling. A long time ago, she told me that most people who have episodic (as opposed) depression/anxiety could get better in a year or three but that they'd go through a personal hell that would take a toll on them and their relationships. Or, they could use medication to help restore their biochemistry in a few weeks/months and not shatter those relationships and live life as it's meant to be lived.
ReplyDeleteShe also said we get enough damn life experience without wallowing in the gutter.
I heart her advice. As the Aussies say, good on ya.
Not sure why Google thought I was unknown, but that was me...
ReplyDeleteGood for you for facing your dark side and telling it to quiet down by taking the meds. It's not easy to do that. Your husband and children will appreciate it as much as you do, I"m sure.
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