Look Maw, No Murders!
I’ll be honest with everyone — I wasn’t sure I was going to make it through the week with everyone alive. Because of course, severe depression chose to coincide with half-term, also known as one of those times in the year I’ve got both kids home with me… rapture. Mind, Smallhausen is six and pretty good at entertaining herself now (and finally will go off elsewhere in the house on her own, insert chorus of angels here). So she really wasn’t too much in the way. Littlerbit mainly cooperated too. I mean like, really, all I had to do was make sure they were fed and not killing each other or being killed by me, but I think all of us know that sometimes that’s a tall freaking order.
But yes, everyone is alive, and I even managed to get caught up on work stuff. I seriously didn’t think that was going to happen atop having to care for kids. I guess finally having a replacement for my old pedal exerciser (tl;drΒ used it to death) helped a bit, or coincidentally arrived around the same time I started feeling a tiny bit more functional on the back of my appointment. I’ll be honest — I don’t care if I’m fat or obese. Weight and health are not related, and 100% of the health problems I have now I had when I was 100 pounds soaking wet (and some of them have been improved by weight gain). But because chronic fatigue means that I’m a bit limited in puttering around, it pleases me to get some movement done on the daily. And because it’s something I can do without thinking about it, I don’t risk the rapid cycling, self-harm, and severely over-reacting OCD that comes with trying to exercise ‘properly’.
My in-laws are very pragmatic people. For Christmas, instead of buying a bunch of stuff that I may or may not like, my mother-in-law purchased me a journal, a box of chocolates, and gave me a card with money in it (and another card with money in it for my birthday the month after). My mother-in-law knows that I write a lot, so she likes getting me diaries and journals, even if I’m never quite sure what I am going to use them for. This one, however… is too gorgeous to not use. It took me a bit to decide what I was going to do with it, and then it came to me — mood journal! Yeah like, I have my two daily blogs that I do for me already, but something about scribbling this stuff down specifically in a journal that I can show to my doctor? It made sense to me. And she was happy to see it too — she even complimented my handwriting (which I am intensely vain about, so yanno, thanks π).
I guess that the tl;dr boils down to the fact that I’m managing to function a bit better than expected, but I’m still feeling pretty depressed and anxious. It’s a tiny bit better some days, a tiny bit worse others. Hopefully I’ll have a better idea of things by the time I see Dr. K next.
Hope everyone out there is well.
<3
Let’s hear it for a murder-free week!! YEAH!!!! Glad you’re plugging along π
Doing my best! I’ve always used busy-ness to keep my brain from having time to dive into asshattery, but I bet that goes for most of the Bipolaratti.
That works well for me too when I can get off my ass. So, today it’s working for me π
Oh I love journals too! And I agree, I have a few that I don’t really know what to write in, but I keep buying them. I’m glad you’re able to put yours to good use. And kudos for not killing anyone.
Long before I had kids, I had complained to a friend with neurodivergent twins that I didn’t know how I was going to cope with keeping ‘normal’ hours and such for the sake of children. She commented that you just sort of make do. I couldn’t manage as such before my bipolar diagnosis (which drove me to finally get the diagnosis done when it should’ve been done in my teen years), but I do a pretty good job of it now. I’d read somewhere that untreated bipolar can, amongst all the other bad things, make it a lot harder for a person to process facial expressions in a meaningful way, and add that to my history of emotional abuse at the hands of my parents… well.
tl;dr Yes, hooray for no deaths. π