Friday, December 04, 2015

Running low on spoons.

I don't know why I feel so run down and depressed right now. Today was not outrageously difficult. I took care of the thing that was a major source of anxiety over the last two weeks this afternoon. The kids are behaving relatively well. On the whole, everything looks just fine. No major catastrophes or trauma happened today.

But, here I am, feeling terrible. I wasn't feeling up to cooking dinner so I ordered a pizza special from the local pizza place. I got through most of my two slices before I became overwhelmed with revulsion. I tried eating some chicken wings. But I found myself so repulsed that I could only eat two. This wasn't just a case of dinner not agreeing with me. At breakfast time, I was utterly disgusted by the thought of the act of eating.  At lunch time, I forced myself to choke down most of a hot pocket sandwich. It kinda has been a theme today.

I find myself worried that this may continue. I am someone who has problems with a borderline eating disorder. I have a history of starving myself when I feel like my life is completely out of control because I feel like that is the only thing I have control over. I honestly can't pin down why I feel like my life is so completely out of control right now.

I am anxious about sleeping again. I have had Beloved reminding me to go to bed at a reasonable hour. I still lay there awake for a while or I wake up several times in the night. I haven't been having the nightmares that I am so afraid of having. The dreams have actually been surreal but not fear inducing. In many cases, I am reliving what was actually relatively pleasant times in my childhood.

I wake up feeling for a moment like I am that child in my parents house. I suppose that could be part of the reason why I'm on edge but I don't know for sure. I have been having dreams like this on a semi-regular basis for the last several months. I know it is because the downstairs neighbor smokes like a chimney and our apartment is well permeated with the smoke.

I have been feeling anxious when I don't get everything I plan to do for the day done. I find myself anticipating a beating or some form of verbal harassment. I have been a bit gun-shy on the idea of going out and socializing. It is like all of the anxiety from my childhood has popped up over the last few months and it has been slowly getting worse.

I know that the flashback that I had last Saturday didn't do me any favors. I have an appointment with my therapist next week. I am not entirely sure how that is going to go. The week after, I see my psychiatric care provider. If I'm still having problems with sleep, I'll be bringing it up and checking to see if I can get back on the medication I was on before. I don't like having to take 6 different medications to function, if you don't count my frequent use of Aleve for my arthritic knees.

I keep finding myself feeling ashamed of it. I keep hearing the old commentary that I was getting as a kid when I took medicine. The arguments made that I was becoming a drug addict and that I was faking my illness to manipulate people keep popping up in my head every time my eye falls on the pill bottles. As a result, I feel so much shame that it makes me nauseated and gives me terrible heartburn. So, I take antacids every night between the heartburn caused by my medication and induced my my psychological angst.

In all of this, I am struggling to keep some measure of gaiety and such in my demeanor. It is the holiday season. The boys are excited and happy. I'm trying to share it and not let my own issues with the season make me a bitch. I don't think I am succeeding, to be honest. I know that once I loved this time of year. Then... Then I 'lost' the holiday spirit because of how keenly aware I was of the differences between myself and my peers at school. And then N- happened, which kinda was the coffin nail on the holiday cheer. The subsequent trauma over a decade later involving C- really was secondary to the rest.

I don't know what to do with myself. There is a birthday party coming up this weekend that I am expected to make an appearance at. Beloved argues that it will be healthy for me to go out of the house and socialize. I suppose he is right. At the same time, I am already getting anxious over the thought of going to this thing. It doesn't matter that they are all people who are kindly inclined towards me. I am still getting a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach over it.

I tell myself that these are my friends. I tell myself that they are all people who care about me and wish me well. And in the next heartbeat I find myself torn between the feeling that I am being politely tolerated and the thought that they're all faking the friendship. I know these things are not true. But I can't break those mental loops. Which makes me feel horrible.

My therapist says this is because of how I was conditioned when I was younger. I don't have words for how much that makes me feel worse. I understand it. I know that there is no shame in it. It is simply a technical way to describe what happened and it is realistic. But I feel like I am somehow inferior for having been subjected to it and coming out on the other side of it with that garbage stuck in my head.

I don't know what to do about it. I'm not doing very well right now. And it is still the beginning of the holiday season. I dread the rest of it.

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