I haven’t taken any pills for 5 days, other than my sleeping pills.
Yes, it feels like my skull is getting crushed in 24/7, living with a wrecking ball in your head sans Miley Cyrus.
It’s an experiment to see who I really am. I cry at everything, yes everything. I cried at a hashtag this morning. I have no joy, none. Or happiness, levity, whatever you want to call it. Im not unhappy, just flat, robotic, which is what I remember many years being like before I was diagnosed. I don’t register, I can interact but there is no engagement, I don’t have a hum. And when I do it’s spiked, very sad or very angry, for some reason, very happy seems to have been taken off the board.
Angry at work, doing my work, but angry or just sad. Work has lost its joy de vivre, which makes me cry as I loved it. Loved it. Standing trial everyday and being led along like a puppet on a string with everything I do watched. Now I can’t even go on a work trip on my own, next one I go on I have a chaperone, that was last night’s dictate. What’s the point of me again? You don’t pay me, and you don’t trust me, and you don’t think I’m doing a God damn thing. I don’t need to be treated like I am 4 in a china store.
Nightmares, nightmares and more nightmares. Last night I was swimming in sweat, disgustingly so, I had to turn on my heating pad to get warm enough to go back to sleep and to dry off.
I was in an airport with my son, and I was losing everything, my way, my luggage, my carry-on, even my child. He went ahead to check in and I was wandering the airport seeing people I used to be in community with and I no longer belonged, everyone was stilted with me and awkward. Then, I was lost and I couldn’t get on the plane in time to get back to my son who was screaming but I couldn’t find my way there. My boyfriend was in my head telling me how useless I was and my family was at the gate ignoring me as I asked for help. Every night I think they can’t get any worse and they do.
My body has also not stopped bleeding, I am not sure how this is correlated to stopping the drugs, but it likely is just stress.
I will get back on the drugs, I can only take seeing myself, feeling myself as a moron with a crushed skull for so long without losing it. Has to be one of the most alone lame Christmas’s I have ever had. Is it Christmas? 10 days to Christmas and it could be the middle of March.