Formal Anxiety

I have my mandatory yearly housing review in a few hours. Only got 3 hours total sleep because anxiety had me walking on razor blades. Formal settings with “authority figures” really sets off my fight,flight,freeze panic receptors. But the woman and agency basically hold our life in their hands. And while I have worked really hard to go by the rules,I signed 40 plus pages and of course,I didn’t do more than skim. Like reading does any good since I forget stuff 2 minutes later. Even important formal stuff. So between Ben’s loud explosions and my vocal cat,I expect complaints have been made even tho no notices or complaints were made to me.

Good old panic,assuming problems based solely on distorted fear. I have to face,though,that I could have inadvertently broken a lease rule. Like missing my first appt because I wrote it as the 8th but it was the third. Somehow numeric dyslexia and sloppy handwriting don’t seem like excuses that will fly. Except they aren’t excuses,this is my reality. Explanations are not excuses nor a failure to take responaibility for my failings.

I also have phone therapy and told her it was a good time. Turns out,I told her my appt was at 2pm but turns out it is 11 and therapy is at 10. I know she will understand but my psych accesses my records to ensure I am doing counseling,I don’t want shortened sessions making me look non compliant. The numbers of appts get me so confused. I can’t even do breathing exercises without getting confused as to breathe in thru nose,hold 2 seconds,out thru mouth. I get it all turned around. So I am not making excuses to shirk responsibilty. I get all confused even with basic stuff or things I like. My brain is thought salad.

I am also on eggshells with my kid. He got in school suspension for screaming curse words at a bully and today told me I may have to come get him cos if the bullies say anything he will stand up for himself. Which means blowing up,cursing,screaming…egad,that kid is gonna be the death of me. So today’s Xanax dose is a little more than usual in hopes it slows my pounding heart and racing panicky thoughts.

Will post more later on how it goes. Wish me luck not to have a breakdown and burst into tears. Meds have held tears at bay for months but like a sleeping,dormant beast…they can revive and turn me into a blubbering mess. Joy joy happy happy.

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Equilibrium Upset

It took awhile battling my anxiety,insecurity,and physical issues but…I mowed the yard today. Sans for the side ditches,I just got overheated and woozy and sore. I worked in increments. It took.probably 3 hours but I took lots of breaks. I am exhausted but glad I did it. For all the good it does. All I ever hear are my failings.

So 4 pm,Dad tried to call Ben. My phone eerily silent. He terrified that child,why would he think Bem would flock to him? I figured they were doing their usual snoop across the tracks thing to tsk tskabout my unmowed yard. Or that blade if grass I missed.

And then I hear his pick up out back and some banging around. I figure taking back their mower or junk.hauling that I will have held over my head for decades. I was.like a deer in headlights,panic rising but frozen,praying no contact…when they left I felt my butt cheeks unclench. That is how tense they make me.

So now the bad juju lingers,equilibrium upended. Those 6 days of silence are probably the kindest thing he has done for my mental health in years. Yet I still feel salty. I know why he is ao.pissed. When he kept harping on my.past mistakes,inc California where I met the donor-I brought up his self proclaimed worst mistake. He did not like that,so shit listed I am. It is almost comical what an immature hypocrite he is. But standing there telling my kid he only exists because “your mom fucked up and ended up.homeless in California”. I was homeless 9 hours,drama king. Yes,I didn’t think it through.or plan ahead. But my kid is not a mistake. Damn him for putting such a cruel thought in Ben’s hesd. I never really got over.him telling me he dudn’t want a child yet but mom got pregmant on.purpose and he got screwed over. Kids don’t forget,even as adults.

So yeah. 10 minutes banging around out back and I am a basketcase of fear and insecurity. You get told you cannot do things right iften and long enough,you start to operate from that belief. I.hope one day I recover from the damage 4 years under his thumb has caused.

I’ve Had Enough

The anxiety and panic are stifling today. I feel genuine terror that we are losing our fresh start. Over money. Which I would have more of if I could just move. Omgomg,totally freaking that housing will call tomorrow. Wtf was I thinking not having help lined up?

On top of that,my sister put the cancer idea in my head and I am totally devoid of fight. It may as well be a given. I’ve had enough.

I just need divine intervention. A generous person. HELP to save my own life. I don’t think I can fight the bad thoughts if this move falls through. Oh pls,God,at least give me a week before housing calls. Let me see what can be done…

Please,God,HELP ME HELP MYSELF😭🙏🏻🤞🏻

Sad To The Soul

I am having a rough day,mentally. Ben is with a friend til 9:30 tonight. I get all that time to be alone with my thoughts. Which won’t feel anything but sad. I am trying every mental trick I know to alter mindset. Even physical activity and a fresh air outing haven’t helped. Just lots of anxiety over Ben being gone. The pandemic normalized him being home 24-7. I am slow to adapt.

I hate days like this. I accomplish nothing. My mind is hostile,telling me it is all hopeless and to give up because I am a loser who screws up everything I touch. I don’t enjoy tv or music or food.

This holding pattern we are stuck in has robbed me of any vestige of hope.

I keep fighting but it is auto pilot more than desire. And I hate myself for it. It jyst does not change anything.

Sadness this deep is not something I would wish on my worst enemy. Too many people never come back from a mental state like this. I am petrified I will be one of them.

Snooze Button

I hit snooze this morning. Which is new,because as of late,I usually wake between 4 and 6 a.m and just get up because my mind starts racing. Today…I just wasn’t ready to face my own mind. I slept ok,lits of wake ups but able to go back to sleep. I just…my mind is so dark. My body feels like a bloated walking bruise. Every day brings a new problem that requires money. And I am stuck like a deer in headlights,unable to even summon likes on a blog. Probably because being stuck reeks of just not trying hard enough and no one wants to hear about it. I used to think wordpress had an empathetic mental health community. Turns out,I was very wrong. People are apparently reading,wp says it is getting noticed,but one like a day says no one finds it to be resonating. And one more reason I despise the like button culture. Was better when I was just venting and didn’t want likes to feel validated.

Wtf has happened to me? Who is this husk I have become? My god,I ran away from home to Hollywood,CA when I was 16. Now I am all crushed no one likes my blog and cannot even walk myself into the hospital and ask for help with my mental health. I don’t know this person.inhabiting my.mind and body. I HATE her. Like,violently. And yet…not changing a thing. Much like my shame at my squalor isn’t sparking me into action. I am buried alive.

At least I survived yesterday. Tho I had a blow up leaving Dollar Tree after sensory overload kicked my ass. Damn cashier was too busy talking to the people behind me to even say thanks and hand me my receipt and some woman had 3 kids running.loose screaming while an infant bawled. The line was loong and it was my 2nd trip there cos I forgot a broom…I blew up. Not my finest moment. I apologized to Ben and said I need to find better ways to cope with panic and sensory overload…

Was uneventful once home sans a Ben meltdown because I expressed disappointment that he mashed hamburger buns carrying them in. He burst into rage tears and stomped off and door slammed. And half hour later he was fine. My god,life is going to chew him up if he is that sensitive to even perceived criticism.

Today…I just don’t feel this life thing. It is all hopeless. I am just…sad. This sudden weather shift is no doubt to blame in part. I need OUT of the midwest for my mental health,literally. Except I have two dollars to my name and cannot even afford a 25 mile trip on my gas tank.

The depression is in charge at this moment,I guess. All I can do is survive. And if you think that is easy,you are clueless. Fighting to stay alive when your own mind presents you with a hundred reasons you are a lost cause and need to just die for the good of everyone…this is badassery.

Fragile Stabs?

Don’t know how else to describe it. I keep getting these “stabs” of panic and feeling so hurt and alone. I woke at 4 a.m. and after fixing the furnace,I got back under the covers and was like…damn,8 cats and not a single on sleeping ob my bed? Not one wants to snuggle? God,I am such a loser…

This is not self pity.

It’s terror and hopelessness.

I have no one. Even my blog,I am all alone. As a writer there are no words to say just how much that hurts. How bad must I be to not even have a die hard or two who.likes my writing style?

I said I wasn’t gonna care anymore cos it truly is NOT who I am.outside these rabbit hole depressions. I kinda take pride in being one of the few who go it truly alone while everyone else has several people to lean on yet complain.how hard it is to be alone. Let ME show you how it’s really done.

But to not even carve a niche as a writer…soul is bleeding. And will likely exsanguinate,because I don’t intend to change who I am or how I write. Still think I just need to find my tribe. 2 people who get me would mean the world to me.

But these panic stabs have me bleeding insecurity everywhere and I hate it. This move,money problems,whatever happened to my.kid-it is crushing if I face the cruel reality. I don’t need the bonus bullshit of feeling all whiny and needy.

So much for any change with the new moon.

I am desperate enough to hope. Not surprised to be disappointed.

Panic So Manic Part 2

Been an hour. No reply to my text to landlordy person.

I am a basketcase. Unfocused,shaky,gut issues,nausea…

Normal person: omg,the house is nasty,they are going to want to show it. I have GOT to get busy cleaning.

Me: I cannot move from my safe spot. Must stay glued to the phone. Feeling even more overwhelmed,I need an answer now,dammit…

I feel dizzy and scared. Now my ear itches,someone is talking about me…wtf,I am not superstitious,that was always my mom’s spiel…

I keep trying to bully myself into action. Not helping.

Panic may not kill you but it sure does fuck you up physically and mentally.

11 am ish

Reply asking to call later to explain🥺😭 So looks like we are going to have to move. I am penniless,with a kid and cats and a ton of stuff with nowhere to go. She did say she understands I have a child in school and does not want me to worry. Hello? Normal people would worry. My basketcase ass is flipping out🤯 Trying to stay calm and get full facts before total meltdown but as overwhelmed as I was,it just got even worse.

One hand,legit reason to leave Armpit and escape my dad.

Other hand,he will be furious that I have no intention of looking for another place here.

Even gas station dude was aghast that I said if we move it will be back to town. Nothing personal. Town might bearable without my dad in it.

Ugh,as much as Ben hates the tougher school curriculum here,leaving the few friends he has is going to send him off the deep end.

Breathe,Niki. Just breathe.

So much for feeling at peace any time soon.

Panic So Manic

Gas station manager asked me how long we have to get out since the properties are being sold off. Again,me without a clue. Commence heart pounding trembling head spinning panic.

Drafted a text to the landlord daughter I deal with. 3 drafts. No guts to hit send. Panic panic panic. And then I hit send,because either way I need to know. And now I wait for a reply,the panic paralyzing me,my stomach contorting…

Feeling A Lil Better? Fuck You!

Still going since 3 a.m. Mind never did slow enough to rest more. I treaded water with my racing miserable thoughts til 1 p.m.,FORCING myself to be active in social media in an effort to not let the incident drive me into further depressed silence. It may be vapid but I was still participating,STILL reaching out in an effort to connect.

After hours of being disinterested in everything,I got on youtube for some escapism via urban exploring 80 million dollar plus abandoned homes. Do not know it cheered me up but it got me out of my head for a bit. Started feeling a little less doomed.

Then my kid comes home and hands me a heat bill I cannot pay. 20 minutes later I bring up her school issues and bam,back to snarling immovable door slamming.

I see the shambles the house is in and it feels imfuckingpossible.

Damn it,I NEED HELP! I need someone on my side pulling for me.

And with that I realized the incident had to happen. That person offered no support emotionally in any way I needed. And I have this soul sucking parenting issue on top of my mental and money shit,so yeah…for the best.

Except now I have no one. Just my cats. I am trapped in this town I hate in a house I hate,buried under in every way and the child that used to make me fight harder…has me feeling more hopeless and alone than I ever have. Being supportive for me may not be her job but ensuring every moment she is home is a battle IS on her. She thinks she has no responsibility but sorry,SCHOOL is all her. I cannot do it for her.

So hey,I felt less shitty for an hour or so but fuck me, now I feel even shittier than before.

And I don’t know what to do to fix any of it.

10 years I have rallied and struggled and now…I have hit my wall. I just want to drop her at dad’s and go sign myself into a psych ward. I need sleep. I need peace. I need help. But I don’t get what I need. I am the adult. My job apparently is to keep going until I end up in a straightjacket written off as inaane.

Because God forbid society actually help those of us with mental health issues beyond tough love and pill shoveling.

I think I am ready to sleep now if only because I am that fucking exhausted. I need a break from my own mind.

I hate feeling so weak and pathetic. I am a badass,dammit. But even badasses need to rest.

Nothing I can do to fix things at end of business day so…I think I will keep the Goldbergs in the background as a happy reminder of growing up in the 80s…curl under a blanket and see if a cat will cuddle with me. And try not to beat up on myself even more.

Spook just came out of her room and I swear I shrunk just a little bit as she walked by. Always waiting for whatever minor thing will cause an explosion.

But yeah,I am the big mean disciplinarian she fears.

Crawling In My Skin

Yep. Another day feeling like my skin is crawling off my bones. Jumping at every sound. Toting the phone room to room waiting for a call and resenting the anxiety it causes. Itchy skin. Crawling scalp. Heart beating a little too fast. Waiting til my yard is full of people,inc my dad,to haul off the rest of that tree. Living in terror that guy who wants to buy all the properties will show up. Worrying about my kid. Wondering if it all is going to break me.

Then feeling annoyance at some of the posts on my FB bipolar “support” group. People pushing diet,God,and insisting bipolar does not interfere with relationships and the ability to work. Their experience is their own. Invalidating my experience seems the opposite of supportive. I know,it is FB,grain of salt. I just wonder how many people take that advice as fact and suffer even more.

And now the endless drone of a chainsaw as they cut up the tree out front. I find chainsaws triggering. Just do it and leave,please. I have enough free floating anxiety without triggers. My kingdom for the anxiety to be dulled.

Knock on the door. Bolts of panic. Forced human interaction with dad and brother. Triggered by sunlight and passing cars,rapid heartbeat and fear. At least the tree is gone and so are they. Dad wants to take Spook to some small town carnival type thing tomorrow night. I could use a break,as shitty as admitting it makes me feel. He was telling.me what a perfect angel she was at their house last night. Some days are like that with her. Then there are days like the drs office when she amps up the defiant drama. My moods do not turn on a dime like that. If I am depressed I stay that way. If manic it lasts for days. Which was why I fought back against the borderline personality thing. It may be a fine.line to diagnose borderline or bipolar but what do you expect when they rely on notes in your file and 20 minute appointments.

Finally,quiet. Aside from my rioting anxiety. I swear school starting has made it worse. Last year it was fear of covid and quarantines. Now it is behavior and the drama she creates. Jr high is not forgiving like grade school. And thanks to covid,parent teacher meet and greets are off so good luck learning anything.

Idk how anyone can be this exhausted from accomplishing nothing. But I am.