There are few times my chemically unstable behaviors cause me to feel embarrassed because I seem crazy, but when I have a manic laughing fit, that’s damn well one of them. It’s like touching a cursed object. Maybe rubbing your hand against a crooked chicken foot or being subject to a centuries old witches toenail having dissolved in your Diet Coke. It was a couple weeks ago it last happened, and I wasn’t in a full blown manic episode either, I was just having a spike of imbalance I guess you could say. I was laughing so hysterically and I couldn’t put an end to it. I ended up feeling so out of control that I left the room I was lounging with Chris in and stuffed a pillow over my face. I wasn’t gasping for breath because I was suffocating myself with that pillow, I was gasping for breath because I couldn’t stop laughing. I spent time trying to put my mind in static mode, not think of anything and calm my body down, but the hint of any thought triggered more laughter. When it wore out its course I was relieved, but frustrated.
It’s another night where I held down the power button for my brain and the mind-computer didn’t shut off. My sleep schedule continues to suffer from irregularity without the added Seroquel to my chemical diet. I may use the Ritalin I use sparingly to keep myself up tomorrow so I can tire out in the evening and sleep at a regular time. Hopefully this month I should be able to get back on the dose I was on, and perhaps bump it up for the next month if need be. It may help aid me in mending my social life as well. It took a major toll when I dropped the drug. In fact, I isolated so hard without meaning to, that one of my best friends blew up at me a few days ago when I apologized for being absent. I’ve clammed up this past two months more so than ever in my distress about where life has landed me. Even when I feel I should speak up for myself I just swallow it down to the pit of my stomach and after a few hours or a nights rest it disappears. Metabolizes or something. Who knows, but I’m getting good at it, and that’s not a positive thing. We nearly ended our friendship right then and there, and if I hadn’t have said “I’m sorry” later that night out of guilt for going into a defensive stance and raging back at her, we’d probably have cut ties entirely. It’s easy to cut ties. Even children’s scissors could slice those ribbons.
The OCD is kicking up a little too lately, it’s the stress. Whenever I’m overwhelmed with things my obsessive thoughts take the stage. The reoccurring one I’ve had for years has resurfaced, which is that I’m terrified there will be a spark from an outlet like in a Final Destination movie and my house will go down in flames. Even repeating it for you now makes me uneasy. I also imagine myself losing all of my teeth one by one in a single sitting. I’ve also been obsessively cleaning and utterly disgusted when I come home and find something out of place, a shopping bag plopped down by the door, the shoes out of their neat line…
On the job front, I’m frustrated, but working hard at it. I’m sick of feeling like a bum. I have an opportunity to work as a Behavioral Therapist for an autistic child(ren) 10 hours a week, the woman I spoke with over the phone was interested in me, in fact she said the only thing that’ll be rough to do to get me going in this position is to find a family that would be a good match. I don’t have a ton of experience with low functioning children on the spectrum, so looking for high functioning kids may be a bit of a search, and hopefully for my own sake they find someone soon, because I really want this job. Always room to move up and take on other cases with more experience as well. What more could you ask for working in your field, and with children? That’s what I love to do.
It feels good to blog. It really does. If I wasn’t such a clam I’d be doing it more often.