Imperfect Me-Poem

Your perfectionism chokes me
provokes me
you can only be who you are
why not afford me the same
I am imperfect and flawed
messily beautiful
chaotic my forte as is perfection
is yours
The more you push me to be
more like you
the more I don’t want to be
anything like you, I only
want you to let me be
and let me be me
The messiness you shun is
the tempest within me that
keeps the fire in me alive
who you are is smothering
the flame of who I am
Yet what do I do to quash
who you truly are
Nothing
You want perfection
you’ve knocked on the wrong door
and for these reasons it’s likely
my chaos and I will
vanish into our messy ether
your kingdom of order and control
and perfectionism
all yours to savor
while I go my own way and
shake off the joylessness
I felt being under your thumb of
control and perfection
I want to be free
I want to be chaotic and messy and
mostly
I just want to be imperfect me.

Not A Fan

I woke,despite little sleep,and for once didn’t feel like why bother. That lasted an hour. Then came calls and noisy people outside and my kid’s therapy later on…Exit depression,enter anxiety.

I am not a fan of feeling This out of control and irrational. I just have bad juju something else is going to go wrong. I wish I knew how to combat it. Breathing doesn’t help. Rainbow grounding is a fail.

I just want to feel baseline normal.

Ill At Ease

Another erratic night of sleep/wake every ninety minutes. Now I wait to hear from the mechanic about my car. Hopefully all will be functional. Five weeks trapped at home has left me feeling helpless. In keeping with my “expectant preemptive anxiety” of anything on my daily schedule…my stomach churns. My paranoia swells. Anxiety metastasizes. So no it isn’t just appointments I don’t relish. It means waiting on,well,whatever. Adding to the turmoil is how to get to the mechanic to fetch the car. It’s at most 3/4 mile. And the weather is quite tolerable. But upon telling my dad my plan to walk,he and step monster pow wowed and agreed I shouldn’t walk in that neighborhood and to call for a ride even if they had to make a trip to town early. Sweet,right? NOPE. I had to walk a mile to pay rent this month cos their computers were down and that was fine,healthy for me. But it was in a better neighborhood. I know I should be thankful they care so much but…ugh. trying so hard to be self reliant inasmuch as my disorders allow. So that is adding to my stomach ache. As is all these run on sentences and general incoherent tone of this post. Dammit,why must I be such a disaster piece?

I have biohazard housework to do but am too nervous to even try lest the mechanical call come in during and me have to start all over again. Plus I need music but I gotta keep the phone line free…so I sit in my safe spot and surf FB mindlessly while mentally beating up on myself for not being strong enough to tackle…fucking housework. So mortifying to be completely undone by basic household tasks. And based on what I always considered personality or anxiety quirks,I tick off a dozen symptoms of ADHD. Stuff also attributed to bipolar. I just want to feel better,ffs. Screw labels and diagnoses. Just make this hopelessness go away.

Disaster piece.

If I ever write a memoir,that is what I shall call it.

I Don’t Want To Be Here Anymore

Yes,the black depression is talking. But thing is,it is telling the truth. I don’t want to be here anymore. Not here,not there,not anywhere. It is all an exercise in futility. And it isn’t even self pity seeking outside validation to convince me I really do want to be here.

The world is ugly. People are vile. And living with mental illness in such a world is like the death of your soul every minute of every day.

I don’t know how to just entirely give up,though. I just keep zombie shuffling along trying to maintain survival mode in hopes…I will feel better. I have never been this low before. So I cannot honestly tell myself it will all work out. You have to have a will to live,not just a stubborn streak to survive. I don’t know if I will come out of this.

Maybe the scary part is I just don’t care. Something has been wrong with my body 2 years now but I get brushed off when their standard tests show nothing. To my sick.mind this is just confirmation I am probably dying of a terminal illness. So nothing matters. I am dead already,my  body is too stupid to just keel over already.

I know I sound wacko. I just needed to vent. The horrors of life persist and so do I. Survival mode above all else even when convinced survival is pointless.

To those morons who say seasonal depression is mild…I hate you with the heat of a thousand suns. This is paralyzing. Nothing mild about having no will to live.

I guess spite and stubbornness as motivation count for something.

The Very Bad Thoughts

Six months since my psych NP could fit me in. Six months same flailing meds. And me overwhelmed,frustrated and drowning. My kid’s issues piled on top of no car…I guess very bad thoughts make perfect sense. I keep going even tho every fiber of my being wants to be safely locked away. Yes,from my kid. From family. From friends. Except I cannot escape the real problem. Me. Keep telling myself I just gotta struggle four more weeks til season change and by then will have hopefully seen the NP (they have canceled twice already)….

Just gotta hold on. Keep fighting my way through. Nights like this when the paranoia borders on panic and wretched thoughts of my own demise being the only way out…A month may as well be a lifetime. I am scared tonight. That I am unraveling. Hopefully in the morning light after a brain reboot of sleep I will feel less doomed. You just have no idea how long and grueling ten hours can be when your own mind wants you dead. They are just dark persistent thoughts that will pass. I have no plans to hurt myself. I just felt the need to purge this darkness and remind myself…this too shall pass. Eventually. I hope.

Gone Under

The house is filthy even for me. I live in terror of inspection,checking the mailbox multiple times a day for the usual 48 hour or less notice. I have allowed my so many things to accumulatw over months now the hall and my room are barely negotiable. Dishes and laundry need done. It took all my energy to get dressed properly and most of it was the cold windy day and being frozen. Broken sleep yet again. Battling stomach issues from hell. I went from discomfort to “the fix” putting me in actual pain,some of it also stress induced. I want to kick my own ass and am berating myself for being so weak as to get done in by housework. That just makes it worse. And to boot I am anxious and paranoid for no real.reason. Living off of a stash of 4 emergency Xanax because I can’t seem to make the 30 minute trip to get my refills. I dodged my dad’s calls all weekend. I am also terrified to reply to my messenger cos it is no doubt about a FB group and something I shouldn’t have done cos they never contact me otherwise.

I am gone under. Buried alive would be an upgrade. And the solution to some of it seems so simple. Go on a marathon cleaning spree and fix it,ffs,you weak ass whiner. If only mental illness were so easily trumped by logic and desire to do better.

I feel frozen to my safe space. Chair,living room,familiar show on TV as safe background noise. Hoping my stomach settles soon tho it shows no sigm of it. I wish for a nap. A brain reboot so things might seem less overwhelming. But alas,my brain rejects even assistance from the last of my melatonin. Just a couple of weeks ago I was still under but coping better. Overnight I went down a razor blade lines rabbit hole. I fucking hate this.

I don’t see the NP til Jan 25,soonest they could get me in but at least I have refills. Ptovided they bothered to call them in,the practice has become a mess sincemy actual psych retired and nurse practitioner telepsych was forced on me as only option. Still battling my kid to the extent I have given up and save the fight only for drastic self endangering things.

Weeks no post then absolute despair. Merry fucking Christmas from scumbag brain. My silly ass still wishes on stars. Lately all I have wished for is some relief from my mental illness. It is that bad. But I survive another day so that has to count for something. I hope.

Wreckage

Another scene with Ben.

Me:I may go to the library,I need that book you have,it is probably late.

Ben: I put it there,you lost it. You are lying,I fucking know what I fucking did you bitch!

40 minutes of him cussing me,blaming me,calling me abusive,et al. And he says it was my fault for calling him a liar about the book.

And then he apologized and hugged me. Every time I say something he considers critical he has these blow ups. He cannot be reasoned with. He will bounce to ten topics so I forget what even triggered the outburst. And he says it is my fault for triggering him cos I know what will do it. I really don’t know. Everything is a potential trigger. Every effort at parenting becomes a blow up in which.he calls me verbally abusive. Today he even called me financially abusive cos we have had to use the foodbank before. I don’t know how much more browbeating my payche can take from this kid.

I immediately got a churning stomach ache. Thought a nap might help. Hours later,stomach is still in pretzels and I feel bruised and bloodied emotionally. He informed me I am alone all the time cos no one likes me.I rarely let people close enough to like or dislike me so his point is moot.

I just want to crawl under a rock. A good cry would be nice but I am soo medicated tears just won’t come. Unless there are witnesses then suddenly tear ducts work overtime.

I am buried alive between my kid and the out if control housework. God,I wish I could just have a week to myself to recharge and not be put down every single day. Hospitalization is no answer. I just have to return to the fresh hell that is undoing me. I feel hopeless.

Freeze!

Much discussion has taken place as far as bipolar depression and anxiety disorder. Fight or flight are legit responses when mid panic. However,there is a third reaction that rarely gets mentioned. I am talking about “deer in the headlights with speeding car coming at you but the deer just remains rooted in place.”

THIS “freeze” state is very real for many of us. It can be debilitating. It can cost you friends or jobs. Few people grasp mental illness enough to think freeze is just “another excuse to avoid doing what you need to do”.

For years,I only focused on fight or flight. The shrinks never touched on freeze aspect. This lead to instability in jobs and relationships. It robbed me of the joy of listening to music as my sensory overload was at fever pitch. People giving a gentle shove and “get over it” made it worse.

Now the other kind of freeze,usually stemming from depression. My house is biohazard 4. I try to break it down in smaller tasks but then ADD brain sees something shiny and onto the next task. Nothing really gets finished with this. You face it. You remind yourself you will feel better after a shower or completion of a task. Problem for me is,the reward center of my brain just does nothing. Things I once enjoyed are now more chore than happy fun ball time.

So despite wandering for 10 minutes see what little chores I might tackle…I saw it all and got so overwhelmed I returned to the safety.of my recliner. I do this multiple times a day. I never start out with a “fuck this” mentality. I am trying so hard to get the fuck out of the oncoming headlights. I cannot move an inch. The feelings of cowardice,self loathing,and self disgust will haunt and cripple me for days,weeks to come.

Freeze is very real. Very debilitating. Very embarrassing. All I can do is survive. Which means radical acceptance of that which plagues me. Not good with the acceptance thing but I am trying. At this point,I would lick a hallucinogenic toad to escape my current mental state.

If you run the gamut of fight,flight,freeze and need a friend,I am here.

I guess I was going to jot a lil down about A.D.D but this post is much longer than I intended. Another time. I am riding out the current freeze but it is bloody exhausting. I try so hard to identify triggerd and-

OMGODLOOKATTHATADORABLEBUNNYOUTSIDE!

This is my reality. I wouldn’t wish it on anyone.

Set Me Free

Just some icky stuff happening. It is impacting my mental state. I try so hard to differentiate between situational and clinical depression/anxiety. There is overlap,though,and trying to cope with that fact makes the whole mental health battle even more grueling.

Today,my mind is on the peace of just giving up. Trying to stabilize has gotten me nowhere. The world is no kinder toward the mentally ill. I am exhausted. No amount of sleep is going to fix that. Yet sleep remains my only true peace. It’s depressing af.

So many of my days and nights are spent in survival mode. Is it worth it to just to survive? Is existing same as living? I have no answers. Nor any plans to harm myself. I am…perplexed. Too many questions without answers.

Recovery

We had an ok Turkey Day but courtesy of my sister,there were 20 randos popping in. Nearly flipped my car on its side trying to get out of the packed driveway. My screaming kid was not helpful. It was scary as fuck for me,too,but I don’t get the luxury of screaming and blaming. I was so relieved to get home and just be done with the sensory overload. Til Xmas,anyway. I just don’t get why sis and her hubby need 2 dozen friends popping by. Supposed to be for family. Dad and I both contributed to the meal (I cooked AND paid) so these freeloaders could eat and not even say hello or thank you. Just glad we left when we did. Dad said after that it turned into Fast and Furious,only stoned and stationary. Nope,revving car and motorcycle engines does not impress me at all.

I was so drained I zonked before 10pm with no melatonin. Then woke up from 1 to 5am before nodding off again.

I was tapped out mentally and emotionally today. Just low and hopeless. Then I said something to my kid about not following the crowd on this Tiktok Palestine stuff and he went ape shit. I know,not a technical term but fitting. I just went into “yes,dear” mode,too exhausted to deal with his hour long diatribes. Sooo fucking sick of hearing him lament about “I have to do/think/feel that way or I will be canceled!”. I have zero use or respect for sheeple so this is hellish for me. You CAN love someone yet not like who they are. And lord knows I am trying to see things from his p.o.v cos things ARE different now vs when I was a teen. Biggest difference is I was willing to be unpopular and bullied as long as I was true to myself.

My kid is not me. And it is a bitter pill cos I truly thought I had instilled better values. I don’t need him telling.me every single day what a failure I am as a mom. I see it in his behavior daily. I swear I tried to teach him right from wrong but…he has always been a follower so I wonder if I ever stood a chance.

So his blow up sent my mental state into the gutter and all day…it has been hopelessness,disgust,and yeah,wishing I was dead cos feeling like this is survival,not living. Just trying to ride it out. Tomorrow may be different. I hope. My will to live right now is in the negatives.

This is recovery from sensory overload. And it is why I keep to myself. I just cannot do social stuff without getting my ass kicked.

Spooky Day

Happy Halloween.

So just had to put a new battery in the car. I bought ut,R installed it. 2 hours in 28 degree weather cos whoever designed the battery compartment was a sadist.

I should be happy,this is my day. But it is 24 degrees out and the prospect of getting dressed is overwhelming. I gotta take my kid to Hellmart and already the anxiety has my gut sizzling like pouring vinegar on baking soda. I really wanted to power my way through my mental b.s. but this stomach ache is right through to my spine. I can’t pretend I am not hurting. Except I have to. So that hour jaunt into public will drain.me and I will have no joy for tonight. Not that I have plans but still.

I wish I could get a brain transplant. A brain sending the wrong messages is a hundrance. Grueling.