I came downstairs today not knowing what I wanted to write. Or even if I DID want to write. I just know I need to. I think I am in a mixed state right now. A mixed state is when you have elements of both hypomania and depression all at once. My hypomania often comes out in irritability as well as starting things I don’t end up finishing. I can’t sleep (well, I can’t sleep on my meds very long anyway, but it’s worsened by hypomania). My depression is mostly just unbearable grey and uncaring and in general I don’t give a shit about anything. I am not necessarily in pain or sadness, but I don’t care about anything. I don’t want to do anything but sleep. It’s utter and total disinterest and nothing is good or okay or beautiful anymore. I don’t even want to play Zelda or cuddle with my animals. And that’s unheard of. I don’t want to talk to anyone, I will avoid texts and people. Today I have group therapy at 2, and I’m convincing myself I HAVE to go, even though another part of me is trying to convince myself to call and not go.
Tdday body wants to go a million miles a minute, but I also don’t have the motivation or desire to do anything. I’m down on myself right now for not wanting to do it, and I feel guilty for being lazy. It’s 11:15 am. I’ve been up since 9 am and all I’ve done is watch Outlander and some Harry Potter. I am annoyed at everything, even my dogs. I wouldn’t let Lulu use the stairs to the bed and cuddle today. We cuddle every morning.
I’m irritated at all the things in the house that are broken. I’m annoyed that I have to clean up Christmas things, I’m frustrated that I sorted out all the presents from Christmas into the kid’s rooms, and yet I know they’ll sit there until I get angry and yell. I’m heartbroken about something I can’t really talk about in a public place, I’m mad that it even happens. I’m stuck on what to do about it (groupies, you’ll hear about it today I’m sure, if I can get myself to talk about it). Right now, I’m highly annoyed that my dogs are downstairs with me and grabbed a piece of wood from the fireplace. They are currently tearing it into bits and pieces on my clean carpet that I spent last Friday making sure was spotless for my two families coming over.
I am pissed that I’m not smart enough to figure out how to fix my own washing machine that has a clogged filter (Oh, there goes my broken washer error-ing out again.). So, I’m irritable to say the least.
My hypomania is telling me all the things that I should do right now. It made me come down and write for one. Then I want to clean my house (again). Or should. I should clean my fridge. I need to organize my front closet. I got a new Cricut (a fun cutting tool for crafting anything I ever want to) for Christmas and I want to learn how to do it. My sister gave me two wonderful journals that have prompts on what to write about that I want to start, but lordie I don’t want to physically write. I want to wash my new blue scalp in a shower, but no way do I want to shower when I’m also depressed.
My head is also telling me that I want to shop. I don’t know with what money, but I want to get new things for my Cricut like iron on transfers and cardstock and all the things. I need to pay off my hospital bills first before I blow money on fun things. My impulsiveness got me to get a second piercing in my earlobe, which I’ve thought about doing since I was 18. I just finally got the impulsiveness to actually DO it yesterday.
I’m just going to stop here. This quickly divulged from a therapy whine to a pathetic whine. I hope you all had a wonderful Christmas and enjoy your day. Maybe when I wake up at 2 am tonight I’ll come down and write a legitimate post. I just read an article about a study where they took a ton of people in MENSA and found that those with higher IQ’s are more likely to have a mood or other mental disorder. I need to do a bit more research on the actual study though, not just the article about the published paper.
***I don’t even want to “advertise” this post on my social medias. Let’s see how it does without it. I feel like a twit for even publishing this in the first place.