You go ahead and PUNCH that wall!

I’m livid with how bad my memory is this year. The more I realize it when something happens and makes it apparent the more I just want to punch a wall. I should dig in on the school library database and see if there’s any claim to my particular Bipolar or OCD meds screwing with people’s memories as a side effect when they’re on them long term. I’ll probably forget to do that too though, HA!

I’m trying to embrace the fact that I can’t sleep. Mainly it’s because I’m worried about tomorrow. Obsessive Compulsive people don’t like change in their routine. I can handle changes a lot better than I used to be able to now that I’m well medicated. However, it’s safe to say I have a habit of not being able to sleep the night before something out of the ordinary is going on.

I’ve been dogsitting since Wednesday at an apartment I’ve dogsat at twice before. I’ve been struggling with missing my well established sleep, cleaning, and swimming schedule which I keep up at home and keeps me feeling accomplished and well. I also feel cleaner at home regardless of showering here. On the other hand, it’s a bit of a vacation.  I haven’t had an opportunity to dogsit in months, and I’m grateful for the extra money most of all.

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The man whom the dogs belong to is very nice and I keep in contact with twice a day via a text to send him updates. Mostly they’re just a quick ‘things are fine’ sort of thing. I’ve gotten less anxious now that I’ve found a good sense of when I should take the dogs out and become re-aquainted with their querks. Tomorrow (today rather) is my sisters birthday. I told the dog’s papa before I said I could take the job, that on the 19th I wouldn’t be available mid-day and he was fine with that. He’s got a neighbor coming over to walk the dogs. What worries me, is that she won’t put the walking collar on tight enough on one of the dogs (he’s got no regular collar because it was giving him allergies) and he’ll get free, or that she’ll tinker with things in the house she shouldn’t causing me problems later.

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I wrote her a lengthy note ‘reminding’ her things I assume the owner told her. I also worry about what time she’s coming. I asked her to text me after she’s finished. That will make a huge difference in my schedule and how much time I’ll have to spend with my family celebrating. It’s not a big deal kind of celebration, just an immediate family dinner, cake and gifts really. Maybe rent a movie on Amazon or Redbox. Regardless, I want to be there and make my sister feel loved.

She’s a bit more open on holidays, which is to say she speaks a little more, has better hygene, and is in a little better mood (For those of you new to the blog, she’s 24 today with Asperger’s). This is my chance to interact a little more with her since she’ll be open to it. With my bit of extra cash I’m going to get her an extra gift before I head home in the morning. I got her a My Little Pony card game the both of us could enjoy together, and plan on getting her one of those Funko POP! vinyl My Little Pony figures. We may even watch the ‘new’ My Little Pony movie together tomorrow on Netflix. She was asking if there were any Barbie movies on Netflix a few nights ago, so we have a few things we could watch.

I suppose the last thing I need is to be devoid of sleep when I have a busy day, but perhaps it’ll throw my sleep schedule back into a ‘normal’ pattern. I take more naps than I normally would when I’m dogsitting, stay up much later than usual, and barely eat anything.

I hope to enjoy the day and the last of my dogsitting adventure without a hitch. Cross your fingers for me!

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In My Head

How often are you ‘in your head’? If you like the color purple, prefer paper bags to plastic at the grocery store, and don’t like getting water in your ears, you, like me, are often in your head! (At least that’s what Buzzfeed would deduce). I’m so much so in my head, that it seemed a valid hypothesis of Chris’ as to why I never remember how to get anywhere we’ve been a thousand times. I’m not ‘paying attention’ as well as other absent-minded habits I have. I was so much in my head tonight, that I finally got out of bed and decided now was the time to blog for the week.

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Christmas last year made me want to throw up. When I was younger people used to talk about how dysfunctional their families were and I felt bad for them. Mine was great. I looked forward to holidays. Now thinking about getting together with my mom’s side of the family is something I dread. My cousins are SO different now than when we were growing up. We have hardly anything in common and pretty much talk only on Christmas these days. I’m going to make the effort to text them this week, try to spark conversation, and hopefully remedy some of that break in social tension. At least it’s tense for me. I hate the fact that all we do is exchange presents and watch each other bicker with our respected siblings. My Asperger’s sister got so wound up with me for some tiny thing I said that I can’t even remember that she pretty much said the only thing she said all night which was to bash me in a rage. After that everyone was silent, and we didn’t really pick up the mood because we had no games to play. I felt like crying. The only ‘good’ part of Christmas is the morning of that I spend with my immediate family. I’d best cherish this Christmas, for it’ll be my last as an undergraduate college student.

You read right. I’ll be graduating Fall 2015! It’s much later than I’ve wanted to have graduated, but having the fog of not knowing if there was anything I was missing lifted from my shoulders, I feel so much better about it. I spent the past year and a half avoiding talking to my adviser in the department. I was terrified to see him and it ended up being no big deal after all. In fact, it was a pleasure. I only need one more class to graduate, which will take one semester. The thing that’s pushing graduation two semesters instead of one is that I need to complete my Capstone project. Everyone in the department needs to complete one before graduating. There are a few options, but Dr. F (my adviser, and the only currently working clinical psychologist in the department), knowing my ‘condition’ and anxieties recommended me do the independent study. Not only do I get to work independently, but I get to work with Dr. F, who everyone wants to work with. He’s always booked with max students he can mentor for their projects. He’s doing me such an honor by taking me on and instead of making me wait until Fall to begin my project (which is when I’m officially in a time slot to work with him for) he’s having me start in the Spring which will prevent me from taking yet another semester to graduate. I’m thrilled. Because his field of study is abnormal psychology, I get to pick something in that realm I’m interested in. (Bipolar Disorder anyone!?) To make things all the more relieving, I don’t have to think about a project proposal until the Spring semester starts. I’m going to work my ass off to ace my one class, and impress the board with my independent study. That’s the official plan.

Announcing my excitement wasn’t the only thing I wanted to bring up in this post. Remember earlier in this post when I mentioned about throwing up? I did that two nights ago after going out with Chris (and meeting our friend and his date) who had free tickets to a concert. It urged me to pose the question to my fellow bipolar peers, how much can you drink? This is a more complicated question than it sounds and it started the year I was diagnosed. My boyfriend at the time said that an ex girlfriend of his was bipolar and could either out-drink anyone who came her way and not get drunk, or after a glass of wine be plastered. I feel like that’s the same for me. I had four shots of vodka, an IPA and a quarter of some wheat beer and didn’t feel a thing. No buzz, no loosening up, it was a waste of money and for that I’m glad that I didn’t pay for most of it, and I feel bad that I didn’t pay for most of it too in that regard. I never know what to expect when it comes to drinking anymore. I had an okay time, but was as I usually am, stuck in my head.

One of the things I was stuck in my head about was a very brief conversation piece I had with Chris on the way home. To make a long story short we have a very long history of dating, not dating, helping each other get through the mud of life, and right now he’s in no mood to be in a relationship with anyone. I’ve been in love with him for years, and see myself being alone if I don’t end up marrying him. If he were to get married I’d never speak with him again, to be frank. As long as I love him, he’ll be the only person I want to be with. I’m short-sighted I suppose you could say. I already can read your mind that you’ve been through this as well and I’ll be surprised to find someone else. No worries, I know it’s not an impossibility. I’m just speaking in the moment and the past several years of momentary feeling.

That being said, it brings us to our conversation. I told him something I was thinking about for months now. If he and I aren’t together as a couple or married by the time I’m 36 I’d like him to donate his sperm to me so I can be artificially inseminated with it and have the baby I’d love to have. He thinks I’m crazy and he won’t do it. I don’t blame him, but still it hurts to hear. It wouldn’t be the same having some stranger’s baby I pick out of a book. My mom was 37 when she had me. I always thought that was old and made me sad because I felt like my peers would all have more time with their mothers who had them when they were younger. That I’d be shorted precious time, but that’s pretty much a realistic cut off age if I want children. I can live without them, but I’m such a mom at heart truly. I mean I’m also a six-year-old at heart, but I guess that’s the goofy balance I’m meant to have. I love and adore the children I nanny for and wish I had my own children to spoil and teach and watch grow. It’s selfish as well I know. For me, I wouldn’t care if Chris wanted any parental responsibility and he’d have no reason to assist financially, but in the end its half his child. Oh well, it’s just something that’s been chewing on my heart for a bit.

Ahh, hopefully now I can sleep. Tomorrow I need to do my job search, pick up my thyroid medication and reply to blog responses from last week. I promise to do my best to accomplish all of those things! I always feel vastly accomplished when I do manage to complete the tasks for the day no matter how menial they are. I recommend making a check list mentally or physically for the day and crossing things off as you go. It’s helped me a lot.

You’d all best be doing fantastically today WordPress family, or I’ll come looking for ya!

Dark Places

The physical manifestation of darkness begins about a centimeter behind the skin where the top of ones nose meets the forehead. It’s a dizzy empty feeling that’s concentrated in one spot, but that has a speckled aura. It’s as though electrons are circling the atom. A tiny spot of energy that could erupt into something curious and dangerous spontaneously.

I spent the week as ‘Up Girl’ and ‘Down Girl’ resulting in my father asking me on my ‘up’ day if I had changed my medication because suddenly I was productive, up early and in a good mood. Unfortunately that was only for one day and since then I’ve been a mope whose been outrageously productive, but miserable.

My obsessive thoughts are crawling their way back into my waking life. It’s been a while since I’ve lived in terror of something. Currently I’ve got an intense fear that house centipedes or spiders are crawling into my food and drink while I’m not looking or sitting in the dark or another room. I split a salad with my dad the other day, who works from home, and got a call just as I was fixing his plate. Instead of leaving it when I was finished I stood there for about five minutes watching it to make sure nothing crawled in from the counter. I got aggravated and wrapped the plate with plastic wrap like a mummy and went about the rest of my day. Gotta love OCD.

Story time – In the beginning: Unease

Yesterday I went to see the movie Gone Girl. It’s based off the novel by Gillian Flynn which I’ve read and what really made the movie so well done was that she wrote the screenplay. I had to fight my inner impulsive twelve-year-old girl who wanted to excuse myself and leave without any explanation. Everything I said and giggled at was forced. I was a world-class actress.

During: Situation

Chris,  his sister and her husband and his mom and step-dad all attended the movie with me. It was planned earlier in the week and I was looking forward to it. Then Chris’ attitude took a drastic dip a few days ago. We haven’t spoken more than a few words electronically in three days now. As we met up at the movie, he didn’t look at me once. It feels like something isn’t right. Something so big it would spin me out of control and make me yearn for the comfort of the hospital. I can smell the excitement of another woman on him, the faint scent of the burning that will char my soul if it’s true. Something new and exciting to distract him from his miserable mundane life. It just reeks of something he’s feeling guilty about. Something he knows that if I know, will hurt me. Maybe he’s putting it off, maybe he’s figuring out a way to say it. Maybe it’s nothing at all.

In the end: Instability

I was so emotionally withdrawn and physically distressed because of the tension in the air (I had my arms folded and squeezed myself so tight I lost feeling in my fingers by the end) that after I peeled away in the parking lot and got into my car I was able to breathe again. I wasn’t feeling myself though. I was more withdrawn than I have been in ages. The ride home was like a lucid dream. As I pulled up to my quiet street I felt a surge. It’s something I’ve felt before, the physical manifestation of darkness. It fed on my emotions and before I knew it I punched the gas and glided down the side of the street with no parked cars, it was inviting. I took a left turn down another street without knowing for sure if another car was coming (which was grossly exciting and something risky I wanted to try), then another left, and another, letting go of the gas entirely and feeling the car slow. After my little fit of idiocy was over I parked and went inside, feeling that my impulses had been fulfilled.

Today I’ve been lethargic and mild mannered.

Semi-Spoilers of Gone Girl psyche:

I wondered on the way home last night if Amy Elliot Dunne of Gone Girl was just manipulative and selfish or if she was mentally ill. If so, what? Could I see myself in a manic state doing what she did? Would I even need to be in a manic state if I was that devoted to my own cause?  I surely can see myself having the thoughts. Everyone I know with bipolar or obsessive compulsive disorder (of which I myself have both) have had what I will casually call ‘insane’ thoughts whether or not they want them or would truly go through with them (at some point or another of their mentally ill career). Have you? If I were to be able to psychoanalyze Amy as a professional would I have empathy? I think in any case she’s brilliant and a survivor. Dangerous though? Any insight is welcome via comment (marked spoiler) or e-mail. You are some very intelligent and insightful bloggers, and I’d love to hear your opinions.