Sometimes the despair and destruction and chaos inside is more real than the conversation or situation that I am in. To the point where I forget things because of the devastation that I am going through at that particular time. Such is the story of Friday/Saturday.
I know it was bad, horrible, I know I bared my soul, but I cannot remember most of it.
In the past 144 hours (6 days) I have slept 24.5 hours in total, and all very very broken sleep. The most I have slept in a row is about 1.5-2 hours. Some of those days I only slept 2.5 hours and one of them I managed to sleep 6 hours, but it was absolutely brutal trying to get all of those 6 hours. They were extremely broken. The time I slept 6 hours I never took any meds. Tonight I haven’t taken any again to see if I can sleep, but it is already after 4 AM and I am here writing.
I don’t feel manic or anything, I just don’t seem to need sleep or can’t sleep. The only symptoms I am having other than issues with sleeping is maybe little tingles in my arms and body from the lack of sleep and a little bit of fuzzy-ness that seems to come and go.
I am however having trouble distinguishing between what I have dreamed and reality. It only happened the one time. Today I tried to sleep, I dreamed that my daughter came home and I had a conversation with her at 12:30 ish (that was the time in the dream). When I woke up I thought that the conversation was truth, absolute. But she was not even home, she was in school for the day. I actually woke up and asked my husband if she had come home from school, I thought it really happened. And although I know it did not happen I still almost feel like it did.
I am trying really hard right now to make my self sleep at least some, so I know that I am for the most part of sound mind. We have some appointments coming up this week that I need to be able to function in, so I am really concerned about this lack of sleep and what it could mean, if anything.
Anyway, just wanted to update a little, as I am really trying to begin writing and blogging more.
Finally built up the nerve to take the first of the Zoloft last night. (Feb 6th) Every since my bad reaction to Lithium I am nervous taking new medications. Even stuff I have taken before makes me a little nervous.
I have only slept for an hour.
I am getting my kids off to school and going to “try” to sleep.
I feel quite a bit of nausea and my body tingles. But nothing major.
New one for me. I may have taken it for a short while when I was hospitalized back in 2012, but I am not completely sure as I was hospitalized for 5 and 1/2 weeks and went through so many med cocktails at that time and I was so sick I don’t know half of what was going on anyway.
I am a little nervous because it is a SSRI med and I am not currently on any mood stabilizers or anti psychotics to combat any form of mania that may or may not rear. I cannot remember the last time I was on an Anti D without a stabilizer…..
But I would take the beginnings of mania any day over what I feel right now.
The beginning is always fun, wild…..but we all know where that ends up.
I am underwater. Looking up I can see a dim filtered light but I am unable to break the surface. I am suffocating, water leaking into my lungs. I am drowning. Sinking deeper and deeper beneath the surface.
I am only just admitting to myself that I am depressed.
It has been coming for a while, maybe it has even been here for a while. But I would not admit that there was a problem. I have been hiding it from everyone, including myself.
I don’t want to do anything, I don’t want to go anywhere and I am not sleeping well night time, and am tending to somewhat sleep in the late morning early afternoon, and even then its not good sleep. I do not want to drag myself out of bed when I wake up. Even when I am awake I just want to lay there and not do anything.
I feel like a failure of a mother and wife because I feel that the things my children are going to remember about me right now is the fact that I am doing these things. I should be more present. I feel like a failure of a friend because I don’t give a shit if I go anywhere or do anything, I am letting the people closest to me down and I am so frustrated with myself.
I feel like a failure because I have went the past 9 months without medications and for the most part I was doing well. Don’t get me wrong I am not naive, I know Bipolar disorder does not just disappear, that it would rear its ugly head at some point.
I look in the mirror and I hate the person I see. I curse her. She is nothing…. I am nothing.