I was going to start this blog off by using the title, ‘I’m at home’. I am at home, I’m on extended sick leave (unpaid leave). But I don’t feel like this is, ‘home’.
The house is a mess with dirty dishes everywhere, dirty washing overflowing and I feel like this environment is a reflection of what’s going on in my mind. I’m curently on 1000mg of Lithium and 400mg Seroquel. This is the first time I’ve ever been on such a high dosage. Then again, I’m sure that my body and mind didn’t even adjust from the previous pregnancy (11months ago) yet.
I wake up every day dreading, not only what will unfold but dreading the day itself. I’m not saying I want to die, but mostly it really sucks to live right now. The lithium seems to be fixing those ‘tangible’ suicidal thoughts, but the subtle overtones of helplessness and just-not-wanting-to-be-around, lingers on. It feels like clouds are looming over me and on some days dark clouds float before my eyes. Like a mist it makes its presence known by leaving wetness on my face. I know my dark side looms and sits here, waiting for me to skip a dose of the good doctor’s pills.
It wants to draw me in.
Everytime I think of the dark one inside me, it saddens me even more. Why does she still hang around even when this is supposed to be a happy time in my life? I’m pregnant for goodness sake!
I get angry when I realise that the darkness is part of my life, forever. I also have anxiety problems so I constantly worry about everything worth and also not worth worrying about. In pregnancy, this for me means worrying about every niggle or pain. So every day can be a nightmare in this regard. Also, my anxiety manifests into physical symptoms, so it all becomes real anyway. Bad dreams become reality.
I think I’m weak, you know. I’m strong but weak- so vulnerable to changes that happen in my world.
I feel so guilty for being weak. As a woman, you’re supposed to be strong and carry the world on your shoulders. And I really do want to carry the weight on my shoulders. I just can’t sometimes. It makes me feel like a fucking failure.
I can’t be a great mom because some days I can’t stand the crying and the demands.
I can’t be a great wife because it’s difficult to be around me, when I’m not ‘me’, sometimes. I tell him to leave but he just won’t let go of my mess.
I can’t be great employee because when I strain myself and function as a top employee, I crash and I’m off sick for extended periods.
I can’t be great when I feel like this.
Being bipolar makes me feel naked and vulnerable.
I prefer being manic, okay I lie. I just can’t imagine feeling normal or being normal in this state.
I wish I felt, normal, at home.