I’ve been feeling very angsty lately. Sometimes I feel like I can rule the world, and sometimes, the twisting starts and I’m stuck in a mode of angst and uncertainty. I have goals but can’t acheive them quickly. Money to pay for student loans that happened in 1993 that I didnt realize I still owed. I live paycheck to paycheck like many of us do, so I’ll have to get a 2nd job to pay these stupid loans off. I’m going to do it, but I’m slightly angry about the whole thing. I don’t owe a lot. I’ve worked hard my whole life. I have no regrets. I had to work harder because I had children young so finishing school wasn’t an option right away. Now I have no children at home, so it’s finally a perfect time. I decided to earn money in a field where women have to work harder to prove themselves. So I need to go back to school. I have a lot of skills and I’ve been in the business for many years but it’s not enough. I have a really good job that I love and appreciate. My coworkers are great. That degree seems to be a must. My boss is amazing and has taken care of me. I could do so much more. I could contribute so much more.
I forgot to take my meds the night before last so yesterday was SUPER tough, and all these negative feelings, which usually don’t make me crazy, stem from that event and are magnifying my angst. I was just so tired that I just fell asleep Saturday night. SO, after a seizure upon waking up yesterday morning, which I haven’t had in years, and recovery from that, life still had to go on. I waited for the dizziness to fade enough to take the dogs out. Took them out. Ruben rubbed himself all over other dog’s poop and I had to take him inside and immediately bathe him. Neither of us was amused. That brought some of the dizziness back. Keep in mind, I wanted to just yell at him but seizures make me angry, so I knew it wasn’t anything he did wrong. He was just being a dog. I continued to rest and my head cleared a bit more. I cleaned around the apartment. Washed clothes, ate, washed dishes. Binge watched a series called Chance with Hugh Laurie. It’s not anything stellar, but it passed the time. The theme of the day was rest to fully recover from the seizure. Then it was time to take the dogs out for time #2. As I’m cleaning up my dog’s poop outside, which isn’t that hard by the way, I see the infamous Doberman and his sidekick, the evil chihuahua out of the corner of my eye. I hope they don’t notice before I can finish picking up the poop. But, Dori noticed and jumped out of her harness. She’s 13 pounds, and started chasing a 100+ pound Doberman. While that would have been funny any other time, it made me incredibly angry. Dori only jumped out of her harness because the Doberman wasn’t properly harnessed by her owner and he slipped out of his because he desparately wants to play with my dogs. Super sweet Doberman. He was bigger than his owner. Anyway, Dori and the Doberman chased each other around. In the meantime, I still have poop in my hand, Ruben is barking his head off, and she’s trying to control the evil chihuahua and get the Doberman back in his collar. It took 20 minutes for us to get our dogs gathered. I apologized for Dori and she apologized for her Doberman. Ultimately, they were trying to play. Not Ruben or the evil chihuahua, but Dori and the Doberman. It was a stressful moment, and I was beyong angry. Aftermath of a seizure. Anger. Seizures cause such a ruckus in your brain that it takes time to get over that, and today, I’m still angry from it, and don’t feel quite right yet. It’s usually a 2 day process. I feel weak and tired and angry. Angst is the perfect word for it.
I was somewhat depressed on Saturday because something fell through, and I was looking forward to it. Who knew it would make me so depressed. It was the right decision, but it left me feeling a little empty. I am so good at listening to my gut that I think maybe I’m too good at it. Unwilling to take a risk. Unwilling to sacrifice my sanity for anyone else. I’ve spent most of my life taking on others’ problems and hurts and pain, and I’m just not in a place where I’m willing to give myself away. I know if anyone in my bubble asked me for help or an ear, I’m there. All the time. But letting anyone new into my bubble just seems like a lot. Anyway, Saturday became this really quiet day, but also a sad day. I’ve been under tremendous stress since moving out on my own. I enjoy the alone part. I don’t enjoy the “I feel like I’m struggling part”. But, I’m being lazy about getting a 2nd job. I’m working on it. I’m just mentally preparing, and I have to make sure it doesn’t interfere with being a dog parent. They’re my responsibility. Maybe I can get a 2nd job that allows me to bring them or find something I can do online. Who knows. Anything is supposed to be possible. AND if anyone can do it, it’s me.
Adjustments and changes are hard for anyone. I am sure I should be over it by now but I’m still adjusting. I’m over the relationship. I was over that before it ended. I’m still getting used to not having the comfort of 2 incomes. I’m still getting used to not having anyone there when I have a physical issue, such as a seizure. It was kind of scary. I have the kind of seizures that cause me to black out and whatever I’m doing stops. If I’m standing, I fall. If I’m holding something, it falls. I never know how long I’ve been out. It’s sometimes 5 minutes – sometimes 1 minute – sometimes a little longer than 5. I have no idea how long the longest one has been. It varies. They believe it could be linked with my Bipolar. But since being Bipolar and finding its cause isn’t important enough to the medical community yet, it’s just a theory at this point. Why is it so hard to focus on improving our mental health? I’m focused on mental health because even having a mental health issue somehow makes us the bad guy. I fight the stigma all the time. I don’t know how many times I’ve heard in the past, and even more recently, that if a person has Bipolar they are not worth knowing or it automatically means drama. I’m here to tell you that if I didn’t tell people I was Bipolar, they’d NEVER know. I wrestle my demons alone. The days where I lash out at others is over. Yes, I have quiet days. Yes, I have depressive days and manic days. But, if I didn’t specifically label it, no one would know. I would just be labeled as moody, but that would be OK? I’m OK because I work on it, and I’m properly medicated and have been since 2006. I’m OK because I’m always aware of my state of mind, and I don’t let it affect other people in some mean, terrible, violent way. I’m not even a violent person. I’m the mediator, counselor – caregiver. When I wasn’t, I hurt myself – not others. Well, in defense of my life, I did hurt one person. But, never once have I been violent otherwise. Moody, yes. Violent, NO. Mean – sometimes. But, aren’t we all capable of those things without having a mental illness? YES.
I really try to be aware of my mood so I don’t lash out. BUT, why am I not worthy of love? NO ONE is perfect. I don’t care if you have a mental illness or not. What if you’re not diagnosed? That would be millions of people in the US and around the world. But say you don’t – you’re not allowed to have bad days or be sad or be…. anything negative? When did it become OK to stuff all your feelings and be someone YOU’RE NOT to make society happy? I’m always me, no matter who gives me funny looks. And, for those that say they’re never in a bad mood or they have this perfect, happy outlook all the time, or they don’t have baggage – LIARS. Baggage isn’t always abuse. It’s a bad relationship or 2. It’s the pain of losing a loved one, friend, etc. It’s the loss of a job, a spouse, maybe even a child. Baggage is so many things. If you’ve been divorced, you have baggage. Period. If you’re over the age of 40, you DEFINITELY have baggage. The trick is to be honest with yourself and admit you’re human and admit it’s OK TO HAVE A PAST. The true path to peace and fulfillment is to accept our triumphs and our trials, and reflect on how they impacted your life. We are ever growing, learning and improving. Life is a lesson all the time.
I absolutely can put myself in other people’s shoes with no issue at all. I understand most people and can accept their story. I’m an Empath. It’s the gift I was given. NO, not everyone is that way. No, not everyone can even attempt to be in someone else’s shoes. And that’s OK. I accept that not everyone is capable of being open and understanding and accepting. People aren’t cut and dry to me. There are so many different layers that come with a person. You just have to keep in mind that we all have a story. Everyone. Something or somethings made us who we are today. You are valued. You are worthy, and someone loves you. Today was mostly about venting, but it’s all I’ve got. Keep on keepin’ folks. I needed to get some of that angst on paper (so to speak).