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Still not King.
Bugger.
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the_axel's party was kind of an interesting experience[1]. I got to have lots of iterations of the conversation where people start off by saying, "We never see you." and I get to say, "Yeah, sorry about that. I never leave the house any more. I've been crazy."
I am very stubbornly determined to be Not Embarrassed about being crazy. I wouldn't be embarrassed if I had a broken leg, right? (Well I might, but only if the story of how I got it was really epic.) But I do still get kinda squirmy about talking to people about having this big lump of mental stuff and how I am, quite frankly, not dealing with it all that well. On the other hand, talking about it means I can't really get away from the fact that I'm not dealing with it all that well so that's a good thing in terms of pushing me back onto the right track[2].
What I am starting to get embarrassed about how bloody long this has been going on. I'm really fucking tired of it now and I would like to have my normal brain back, thank you very much.
It's hard to explain it to somebody who isn't in my head, but I've tried it a few times with BC & Axel. I describe it as wading in thick mud up to my chest. I'm dragging a cart through that mud and everything that I need to deal with, good or bad, is a weight on that cart. Work. Housework. Money. Family. Doctors. Eventually even the stuff I'm not doing becomes a weight. The dishes haven't been done in a week. The bathroom hasn't been cleaned in two months. Even the smallest things add up and as the cart gets heavier the harder it is to move. And the slower I go the less inertia I have to keep going. So eventually the whole thing stops and that's when I break into little pieces. That part is singularly unpleasant for me and anybody around me. I try to avoid it.
And as much as I love my friends and like hanging out with them, I really am a true introvert. Interacting with other human beings, no matter how pleasant, is another weight on that fucking cart.
On the plus side, unlike a few months ago where just getting through the day was running me into some pretty serious deficit, I now have enough space to add one or two things to my get-through-the-day list[3]. If I'm smart they will be things that make me get better as opposed to things that just feel good. Historically I'm not very good at doing that. But I'm getting really fed up of never leaving the damn house.
[1] Also fun. I know I'm getting better because I didn't have to hide in the bedroom and wibble even once.
[2] Basically I've been working tons instead of doing the things that make me get better. Because I need the money. Which is screwed up priorities, I already knew that. Saying it out loud to people who give me the scrinchy face when I own up makes it harder for me to justify doing it anyway.
[3] I was terrified of what was going to happen on my trip to the Netherlands/UK. I ended up being vastly improved. I credit walking 5 billion miles per day and getting as much sleep as I wanted whenever I wanted. I hung out with other humans every day and I was fine really up until the last day. Now that I'm back I'm still better than I was when I left, but nowhere near as good as I was when I first returned.
Bugger.
the_axel's party was kind of an interesting experience[1]. I got to have lots of iterations of the conversation where people start off by saying, "We never see you." and I get to say, "Yeah, sorry about that. I never leave the house any more. I've been crazy."I am very stubbornly determined to be Not Embarrassed about being crazy. I wouldn't be embarrassed if I had a broken leg, right? (Well I might, but only if the story of how I got it was really epic.) But I do still get kinda squirmy about talking to people about having this big lump of mental stuff and how I am, quite frankly, not dealing with it all that well. On the other hand, talking about it means I can't really get away from the fact that I'm not dealing with it all that well so that's a good thing in terms of pushing me back onto the right track[2].
What I am starting to get embarrassed about how bloody long this has been going on. I'm really fucking tired of it now and I would like to have my normal brain back, thank you very much.
It's hard to explain it to somebody who isn't in my head, but I've tried it a few times with BC & Axel. I describe it as wading in thick mud up to my chest. I'm dragging a cart through that mud and everything that I need to deal with, good or bad, is a weight on that cart. Work. Housework. Money. Family. Doctors. Eventually even the stuff I'm not doing becomes a weight. The dishes haven't been done in a week. The bathroom hasn't been cleaned in two months. Even the smallest things add up and as the cart gets heavier the harder it is to move. And the slower I go the less inertia I have to keep going. So eventually the whole thing stops and that's when I break into little pieces. That part is singularly unpleasant for me and anybody around me. I try to avoid it.
And as much as I love my friends and like hanging out with them, I really am a true introvert. Interacting with other human beings, no matter how pleasant, is another weight on that fucking cart.
On the plus side, unlike a few months ago where just getting through the day was running me into some pretty serious deficit, I now have enough space to add one or two things to my get-through-the-day list[3]. If I'm smart they will be things that make me get better as opposed to things that just feel good. Historically I'm not very good at doing that. But I'm getting really fed up of never leaving the damn house.
[1] Also fun. I know I'm getting better because I didn't have to hide in the bedroom and wibble even once.
[2] Basically I've been working tons instead of doing the things that make me get better. Because I need the money. Which is screwed up priorities, I already knew that. Saying it out loud to people who give me the scrinchy face when I own up makes it harder for me to justify doing it anyway.
[3] I was terrified of what was going to happen on my trip to the Netherlands/UK. I ended up being vastly improved. I credit walking 5 billion miles per day and getting as much sleep as I wanted whenever I wanted. I hung out with other humans every day and I was fine really up until the last day. Now that I'm back I'm still better than I was when I left, but nowhere near as good as I was when I first returned.