So I haven't written in awhile. I've thought about writing and wanted to write and even sat in front of the blank screen, fingers at the keys, eager to type away. But I just haven't. I've given up my Twitter entirely. I've been suffering from total writer's block. I've actually been suffering from far more than that. I'm like a really slow moving train wreck, relentlessly moving onward, that nothing is able to stop. Here we reach one of the true awful downsides of bipolar. The anxiety ridden manic event.
My vacation came and went. I was hoping that was going to be the balm which soothed my savage soul. But, being I'm a SAHM now, it was more like a business trip than a true vacation. Hell, I did laundry and made breakfast every day. And it was not only 24/7 with BOTH children, but 24/7 with my husband, who was forced to be with the children 24/7. Were parts of it wonderful? Absolutely. And at some point, when my hair is not (literally) falling out in clumps, I'll write some great stories about it. Like the story of Alex trying to mount the dolphin. Or how we ended up the proud(?) owners of a time share. But not now. For the last couple of months my mindset has not been a happy, sarcastic, poke at life and write about it in an upbeat tone type of thing.
I'm struggling to hold on. It's brain chemistry. It's the unease of so long feeling like I'm in limbo, without a true base under my feet. We're supposed to be moving upstate and now that's on shaky ground for various reasons. We're still moving but we may now have to rent rather than buy, which still means a few years before I have a place that's truly "mine". The light at the end of the tunnel keeps winking brighter and then dimmer and I'm not sure I believe it's really the outside anymore and not just a train coming at me. Alex's behavior has been awful. Nick and I have had our problems. Amy is entering the terrible two's. And I'm home and bored and isolated and lonely. And hitting that Spring mania with just enough negative triggers to make it unpleasant.
So I haven't been sleeping. I can barely eat anything without it running right through me or trying to fight it's way back up. I'm shedding pounds, which would be great, except I don't look healthy doing so, what with the loss of muscle tone from sheer exhaustion. My eyes are black underneath and I'm pretty sure I could pack an overnight bag in the rings around them. My hair's been falling out. My skin's been bruising if I sneeze too hard. Which I do often given my seasonal allergies. And I'm walking around looking and talking like a speed freak filled with all this wired up nervous energy. I have very little patience for any of the usual stupidity of humanity or even the misbehavior of my children. I'm irritable and moody with them. And I've been ducking my friends and picking fights with Nick over things I normally let slide. Maybe things I shouldn't let slide as often as I do, being they're really obnoxious, but still, I'm not myself.
In short, if I had the option of hiding from the world, that's what I'd be doing right now. But I care about too many people too deeply to pull that crap anymore. My husband, my kids, my good friends, yeah even my dopey family members. So I grit my teeth and remember that I am a human being as, as such, I need and am needed by other members of the species. And being here with them now, even when I want to run under the bed, or possibly bite them all (I won't), ensures they will be there for me later when I snap out of this funk. And that's what makes the world go round. But I will still probably avoid the blog for a bit. Otherwise I'll just sound all emo.
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