I suppose you want to know about me. Hmm. Well, I am a girl. I have stuff to say. What else? Let's see. I'm a Mormon (technically not our real name, but whatever.) I'm an INTJ. I wish I was a musician and a scientist and a professor but I'm not any of those things right now. I am currently diagnosed with ADHD-Combined, Avoidant Personality Disorder (or just Social Anxiety, depending,) Bipolar II Disorder, Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder (or maybe just OCPD?) and Trichotillomania. Maybe Panic Disorder with Agoraphobia, or alternatively Agoraphobia without Panic (I do get panic attacks, but they're not the reason I'm scared to go places.) My therapist thinks I might have PTSD but I don't want to agree with her. Last year I gave up on DBT and and switched back to some kind of mix of psychodynamic & supportive & CBTish stuff. Emphasis on the flexibility. I hate DBT. I don't mind acronyms, though. Oh, and there is a non-zero change that it's possible that just maybe I have Asperger's Syndrome or another ASD/PDD kind of thing, but I'm scared that people will dislike me if I say that in an assertive and confident kind of way, so. I like science fiction and fantasy way too much. I went to Comic-Con before it was super-cool, read Star Trek novels back when that made you a real nerd, and own a Slytherin scarf, a hand-carved wand, a lightsabre, a calligraphy kit, and an AlphaSmart 2000. I compete in NaNoWriMo every year, and have a user number well below 50,000. I'm trying very hard to both be honest and anonymous here. And I'm also extremely strange. So, bear with me if things seem a little off-kilter. I am currently permitted to apologize, but I'm trying to avoid it because I have a bad habit of apologizing for everything. So just accept a virtual hug from me and go in peace, knowing I'm swallowing that word which wants to come out due to guilt that's kind of not rational. I am a Mormon, but I don't speak for the Church (this blog is a personal blog, not an official blog.) Find out what Mormons actually believe here. Get the actual Book of Mormon (in many different formats, generally free) here. Find all my Inner Critic stuff here Read my list of Sabbath day activity ideas here See my General Conference Preparation posts here. Here is all of my advice for investigators and converts to the church.
Having to talk about a dead person is really hard if you know them well, especially if you’ve literally just been through all of their financial and internet accounts with a fine-tooth comb.
Related: if you are doing creepy things on the internet that would deeply upset your family, please use a separate browser and pre-paid credit cards and stuff. Because when you die they’re totally going to see anything you’ve got the password saved for in Chrome, or that you have been paying for with your bank card.
(Luckily, I am able to say the whole entire truth to my therapist. I don’t even want to tell my bishop or whatever, because everyone knows each other and I cannot have it get back to my mother and sisters.)
Found out about an hour ago that my stepdad passed away this evening. As usual my emotional response is buried too deep for me to find, but intellectually I'm trying very hard not to drown. There are too many directions to go in at once, and I have to take on an unknown amount of responsibility ASAP, and I can't let myself ask what this means for me and my family because I will never be able to sleep if I start down that road. And, well, it's not like I can claim to have had a handle on anything prior to when I got the message. One good bit: my mom has friends who are helping her tonight, who are normal people who are good at empathizing and other emotional labor I really can't do. This means I can help with things I'm good at, like task lists and paperwork.
So, my parents have invited me to move back in with them. It’s been exactly one year since my sister abandoned me here, and obviously things aren’t going well.
I’m... conflicted about this. Living with my parents would be sub-optimal; my issues are largely hereditary/environmental, and neither of them has much (any?) insight into this. They, especially my mom, have a tendency to behave in a way that leaves me feeling really lousy about myself. A few years ago, my mom was in the habit of telling her friends she was amazed that I was living on my own and working, and that soon I’d be back. There’s absolutely an element here of “not letting them win”/not proving her right, but this is also a really unhealthy emotional dynamic to live in the middle of. At a certain point it doesn’t really matter whether someone is actually trying to hurt you or are just accidentally hurting you all the time.
Plus, there are simple hygiene issues - Mom stopped caring about serving moldy food about six years ago, the carpets are full of dog and cat deposits, the bathroom I’d be using is covered in mold, etc. Oh, and they keep the house around 74 degrees year-round, which is really incompatible with my medications. I’ll have to invest in a cooling vest or something.
On the other hand. I’m really (really really really) not supposed to be living on my own. I’m not in a position to consistently take care of things like paying bills, opening mail, taking out trash, etc. It feels like I’m constantly on the edge of some kind of disaster, because I can’t be sure I’ll actually do all the things necessary to be safe and healthy. Strictly speaking, I believe my case manager has chosen not to try and visit my home because they don’t want to have to take the kind of action that you probably have to take when someone lives in the conditions I’m in at the moment. If a child or dog lived here, I’d definitely lose custody.
I’m also extremely isolated where I am, about 80 miles from the nearest family member - my therapist and I are working to get me to simply interact in real time with people who aren’t service professionals, ever. Living alone is basically terrible for me; living alone in the middle of nowhere is substantially worse.
And, I wouldn’t mind being closer to an actual city. There’s a lot of stuff I just can’t do because it’s all too far away - I do too much driving as it is, and frequently have to take trips that put me in some danger of not getting back home that day. There are also some concerns about medical facilities where I am now; the nearest competent inpatient psychiatric facility is over 20 miles away. Oh, and there’s no one here I really have anything in common with, making the socialization thing even harder.
What’s kind of extra obnoxious about this is that I have basically no time to make a decision. I’m at the top of the local waitlist for supportive housing and might get a call any day saying it’s time to come in and sign a lease (they were hoping my HUD application and background checks would be done fast enough to get me moved in by November 1st!) My parents have known about this for months, but held off until the day after their most recent visit to spring this on me. My guess is they made the decision on the drive home.
I’m actually a teensy bit suspicious that they just don’t want to lose the rent money I’m currently giving them. Though they’ll definitely get less than they do now. And my Medicaid eligibility won’t be lost, because I’ll be paying them, and me paying rent means I’m in a much stronger position to, for example, say no when they want me to babysit the dog while they go to Cancun.
Did I mention I’m terrified of their dog? The one they let run rampant throughout the entire house?
Bleh.
I see my therapist on Thursday; it’s safe to say she’ll be earning her pay for that session.
(Randomly: my family seems to have taken on a new habit of dropping massive surprises on me on the day after my birthday. I am presently trying to figure out the best way to get them to stop doing that.)
It’s been like... many months since the last time I bothered posting on Tumblr. Got tired of everything, and much too busy in my, you know, actual life.
Anyway, my stepdad mentioned a photo blog he thought I’d like so I logged in mainly for that. But thought I’d say hi while I was here. So, hi.
I shopped at two places and had lunch out. I was sweating profusely and walking in not-entirely-straight lines by the time I drove home, but on top of that I also took three trips from the house to the garage and back (bringing stuff inside.) Anyway, I knew I'd gone too far, but until today I didn't know how bad it was. Now that I've spent an hour on the toilet and most of the rest of the time immobilized in bed, I think it's fair to say that it was "really bad." My goals were originally to eat salad for lunch, do a load of laundry, and possibly take care of the dishes that are piled up in the kitchen. This has been downgraded to just "eat salad," because I had to take a 20-minute break halfway through making the salad due to exhaustion and nausea. And, I mean, we're talking about mixing together bagged lettuce and packaged chicken strips - not exactly challenging stuff. Fun bonus fact: I only did about 3,000 steps all day yesterday. So it's not like I'm hypomanic on these "overboard" days, and then crashing into depression. My "too far" is a healthy person's "stuff to take care of during my lunch hour." :/
I mixed up the Ambien and the melatonin (my meds keep changing colors and shape each month,) which means that for safety reasons I actually did have to be in bed before 8:30. I'm already unsteady on the stairs, and Ambien makes you trip over thin air, so. Tomorrow I have therapy with V, who still isn't an anarcho-terrorist with a poetical bent. She also doesn't wear a Guy Fawkes mask during our sessions, which is in all honesty probably for the best. I find her initial much more entertaining in the evening, after taking a bunch of sedating meds, than at any other time.
Oh, I feel lousy today. I'm definitely healing from my accident, but two days of stress and poor sleep have me totally wiped. Everything hurts, etc. The good news is that this doesn't really matter - I don't have anything urgent to take care of until therapy on Monday. So I'm just trying to make myself as comfortable as I can. Which isn't very much, alas.
Not sure what woke me this time. Possibly hunger; my meal schedule has been totally throw apart the last two days. I'm debating the merits of going downstairs to munch on something. The issue is how much pain I'll accumulate in the effort. I may have to eat, and then use pain meds and antihistamines just to fall back asleep. Ugh. OK, there's probably no choice. Just have to make the best of what I've got. Luckily, I have donuts.
It was hard doing anything today - my sleep was awful, my injuries from yesterday make it painful to move/eat/talk/etc., and I had every good reason to not even try at all today. Instead I went to the store (confused everyone by slurring my words and shuffling like a zombie,) got my prescriptions and soft foods, and came back home. And, I put vitamins in boxes through the end of this month, before going to bed at an impressive 9:20pm. No promises about tomorrow. Just happy I stuck the landing today.
I think that having my experiences with bipolar disorder, etc., has a major impact on my response to traumatic physical injury. Like, I know all about not catastrophizing. But also that paying attention to physical sensations is vital to staying healthy. Anyway, it's not fun at all. Especially because I woke up due to discomfort and now that's done and I can't think clearly.
One of the happiest moments today was when I was informed that my brain has atrophied (presumably due to bipolar disorder.) Yes, things were bad enough that this counts as good news. Anyway, I've taken the pain and nausea meds I'm allowed, I've followed my instructions, and I gave "staying up till sunset" an extremely worthy effort. I also limited my impulsive reactions to excessive posting on Facebook, which is pretty freaking heroic in my opinion.
Just because I was really becoming quite frustrated with how long it had been since I went anywhere. I had lunch, bought a couple of crafty things, and came straight back home. I had intended to also get things like Cheerios, but I was wiped out before reaching that part of the to-do list. Oh, also, I ended up sleeping almost straight through from 1am to 1pm. There was one break where I actually got up (to eat) and two more where I was conscious enough to "like" stuff on Facebook that I don't actually remember reading now. It's very weird knowing I did stuff in a semi-competent manner but it never got filed in my long-term memory. Sort of a "if a tree falls in the forest" kind of thing.
Just realized, having counted down from 100 slowly and then back up for a while (and starting way later than normal) that it was after midnight. And my pulse is over 60bpm, and the tiny light from my A/C unit seems to be lighting up the whole room, and I can't stop thinking about five different things at once... So I took some antihistamine and am waiting for it to kick in. Not sure where I went wrong today as far as timing and stimulation are concerned, but clearly I'm at least on the wrong track now if not actually off the rails completely. Belatedly, I now realize my head hurts - didn't really feel it till I turned on a lamp to cross the room. So I maybe should taken the migraine med (which definitely can't be mixed with the antihistamine plus the Ambien I took 3.5 hours ago yikes.) That's in the category of "I really prefer breathing over not," so it's six hours before I can consider it. I hope to be asleep through that point. Oh, and I've knocked the A/C down to 64°, which makes it colder and fills the room with white noise. It's a full-frontal assault on insomnia at Casa de Demeter tonight.
I just realized I have no idea what my dad calls my mom
I'm 35 years old and have no memory of them speaking face to face or on the phone. I have been told it happened, a few times, after the fact. I just haven't been a witness. My dad always says "your mom" when talking about her, to me (she goes with "your father," mostly.) She's had four different last names, and used three different versions of her given name, in the time they've known each other. I have absolutely no idea which one he'd use. I can't even imagine him using any of her names, to be honest. Obviously, my presence on this planet indicates that they were on an "I use your name" basis with each other at some point, but I find myself incapable of picturing them in the same room simultaneously. Yeah, I'm not surprised I'm in therapy, either.
Between having gone shopping yesterday in the heat, and then the news today, well. It's not surprising, let's say. I did have two separate "out of bed" periods, though, each lasting a little bit more than three hours. So I think that the Wellbutrin is helping, even on the really bad days. Which is good!
