Content Note: bipolar disorder, trauma
I woke up this morning around 9 AM with a start, as if I had been ripped from another time and place. I felt the blood coursing through my veins. It was almost thumping. My chest hurt, a fusion of despair and desperation to get going on some unspecified goal.
Another day of hypomania. I drag myself out of bed, take my meds, check on the critters, get dressed. The things you do.
I make coffee. I remind myself I am supposed to eat so I grab a donut. It counts. I’m simply supposed to eat 3x each day and to pursue protein.
The thumping is now literally in my head as the allergy headache sets in. I hope water, coffee, and aleve will help. I have to be very careful about taking decongestants because they trigger and feed hypomania.
The day is sort of a blur. We get an update on the foster kittens from their adoptive home. My op/ed is publisher by the Pittsburgh City Paper, my debut with their publication. Face masks are delivered. A friend shows up with ten dozen cookies to donate. Laura is working. Resident cats are perplexed about the disappearance of their kittens.
I struggle to focus. I take one task at a time.
We have a new system with the three remaining foster cats to bond. That occupies time and consumes energy. But it is deceptively simple. I fret, I overthink, I extrapolate.
We feed feral cats. Laura accidentally trips car alarm, sending me headfirst into even more anxious feelings. The rain comes pouring down. I return to the car drenched.
We head to grocery store. Curbside person at Giant Eagle tells me they are out of ground coffee. I weep. Turns out she meant my preferred brand. I agree to take anything. I feel like something isn’t right about the order but chalk it up to my being crazy and her being exhausted.
We stop for pizza on the way home. It’s a local pizza joint with clear signage about occupancy rates in the lobby, tape on the floor and a supply of freshly disinfected pens. We eat pizza and unload groceries.
In this day’s curbside order, I ordered 4 bunches of green onions, 5 boxes of cupcakes, 2 bags of pretzels with three already in the cupboard, two large clumps of potatoes, 3 containers of oatmilk (2 in fridge), and a grand total of 6 bottles of gingerale. I also ordered 2 lbs of salmon and 3 giant jars of pasta sauce.
I didn’t do this deliberately. Part of it is the fact that Giant Eagle is using two different websites and moving the items from cart to cart.
But I didn’t check carefully. That is the problem. That’s how the symptoms derail you. So now I have to have my grocery shopping monitored for my own good. And I will resent that when depression sets in.
COVID19 is stealing pieces of my life. I’m so grateful I can understand this, but I resent the fuck out of it.
I’ve been shopping online for over two years. Mistakes have happened, but nothing like this. I can pinpoint what is Giant Easgle curbside fault and what is mine, but I’d feel like a heel making a fuss.
I’m devastated this is happening. It’s not fair. But it is real. I’ve lost so much to coronavirus. I’ve given the best parts of myself. I shouldn’t have to lose my mind, too.
We watch a two-hour PBS special. My chest stops aching. I take my meds early to ease my way into sleep.
At bedtime, the room is humid. I wear light pajamas and hope for the best. On my list of perpetual failures, I add a bunch of things.
I’m miserable, but better than the morning. I know my trauma dreams await. I really want to pick up my phone and distract myself. I just don’t.
I wake up a few hours later choking and coughing. I’m cold so I reach for pajama pants in the dark and come up with leggings. I’m so tired but don’t want to go back to sleep.
I want to get better soon, to find a switch to flip. I want to go back to face-to-face therapy so I can continue my trauma processing work, treatment that’s not optimal via telehealth. I know processing those demons will help stabilize my mood in the future. Let’s get on with it.
But that’s the future. Right now, I am hypomanic and need to pour my energy into managing these symptoms.
I am suffering very deeply and struggling to stay focused.
I’ll try to manage my allergies and sleep and protein intake and grocery shopping and cat fostering.
Join the Steel City Snowflakes with a one time or recurring investment in our projects. Click the image to see our current snowflakes.
Follow us on Twitter @Pghlesbian24