insomnia

Take no prisoners – hypomania hurts

My body, my muscles ache and my mind is partly numb, still a bit unclear. I went straight to bed after work and slept for a bit before bathing and eating dinner. I’m exhausted as I regain my stability after a particularly nasty four-day spree with hypomania and insomnia. A fixation on lounge curtains lead to my undoing. My thought process and behaviour out of control and irrational, lead to a heated misunderstanding with The Good Guy. Poor fellow was only trying to help and understand. But despite his best efforts, my brain was sick. Unwell. Perceptions warped. Wrong. Extremely wrong. Just like my neurological wiring.

How many times must I say this! It is out of my fucking control. Now drop it. And fuck you

Then I broke up with him. This innocent bystander cut down in the wake of my mania storm.

Its over. I don’t want to see you again. Don’t ever come around. Stay away from me

This said to a gentle human being who was only trying to support me. Trying to learn, to understand as best he can. I’m ashamed. Deeply ashamed. No one deserves to be spoken to like that. No one. And especially not this good guy. I apologised, but that’s never enough. By the time you say you’re sorry its already too late. There is no taking back those nasty words – I’m too embarrassed to print. But he was patient. He didn’t react. He slowly, kindly, waited out the storm. As the hypomania began to lift, he managed to coax me back to a point of reason, of clear thinking. He accepted my apology. He accepted me. What an exceptional person. It guess it also doesn’t hurt that he almost became a psychologist!

Mind control

Control your mind and you’ll be fine

he said to this insomniac

during a hypomanic attack

lucky for him it was said via ext

or else I’d have broken his neck

Control my mind?

Something that’s never been mine?

A quick trick so simplistic

the mere thought of it makes me sick

he crossed the line this time

I’ve tried to be honest about my illness

that there never is any stillness

or reprieve to be received

the concept is understood

but in practice its’ overlooked

a sarcastic apology defensive

in my raw state it’s offensive

to redirect blame is a shame

“There are hundreds of things I cannot say”, he shouts as I walk away

I can’t argue with that

all I can do is detach

Control your mind he says over and over

but if I could, I’d have the cure for bipolar

What’s real and what’s illness is a difficult business

Last night, out of the blue, thoughts broke free like a horse nearing home. Couldn’t relax. Couldn’t sit back. I began to decorate. Re-organize. Moving this and then that. Then putting it back. This there and that here but it didn’t fit so I tipped the house upside down to find peace in my cracked and mismatched home. Unpacking cupboards and swapping and switching. Stuff. Old curtains out and new curtains in. Swop them around all over again. Change the walls a new colour. Mind ticking over. Big plans. There were ladders and fabric, old clothes for charity, broken pots now layered in dust, old pillows abused covered and back on the bed to be used. My place looks like its been hit by a storm. A hypomania storm? I’m confused, lost my step and my sleep, can’t figure these things out anymore, can’t keep score. What’s real and what’s illness is a difficult business. No trigger. Just suddenly couldn’t keep still. My mind and my body are definitely ill.

I admit I have to be hospitalized

I’ve admitted myself into hospital after two weeks of insomnia and chasing my tail in mixed episodes. Loud and laughing then switching to tears. I swear to god if I have to cry one more time…. if I have to have one more sleepless night….. if I have to become fixated on Mr Google’s access to information one more time….. I’m gonna go nuts!

So here I am, back where I was last year. This time without visits from Lover… bittersweet…. but a good thing because he’s a big part of the reason why I’m back. I’ve seen my doc and he’s added to and increased my meds. Our goal is to knock me out. He’s also treating my sciatica pain. Having no sleep means my body hasn’t been resting and recuperating from the day and my pain is beyond screaming at this point. I can barely put weight on my right foot.

A big part of me doesn’t want to go to sleep even though I’m tired. My brain is moving so fast, so many things I want to do. My energy feels endless. I feel electrified. Alive. But I switch, so quickly, and I’m heartbroken and desolate. So I know I need to press the reset button to stop this cycle; to get any quality of life moving forward into the new year. At least here I know, I will have no choice but to be sleeping peacefully.

Caution, lack of focus ahead

It another one of those days. I can’t focus on anything. I only had 3 hours sleep last night. My mind tells me I’m too busy for bed. Agitated and accelerated it now hops from one thing to another. Here I am at work, trying my hardest to concentrate all my efforts on my workload, but……. THERE’S GOOGLE! And I have so many questions and ideas. One site leads me to another and before I know it, I’ve missed my deadline, taken too many smokes breaks, and I’ve got a gazillion tabs open In google that I JUST HAVE TO READ before the end of the day. So many interesting things, but……. WORK! I’m being paid to do a job not to rub shoulders with Mr Google.

*sigh* Today it’s greatly disappointing having to earn a living, when I could be conquering the world with projects and concepts, research and knowledge.

13-12-2016-caution-lack-of-focus-ahead

 

Momentum of the mundane

I do stuff. And then I cry. I do some more stuff. And then I cry. That’s pretty much the content of my life right now. It’s an accumulation of forced efforts. I think about death. And I think about life. Possibilities. Darkness. I want to give up. But I won’t. The thought is alluring. All I can do is one day at a time. There are gaps in between when I’m okay. When I laugh, tell a joke. Look forward to stuff. And then there are the times I cannot sleep. And times when I sleep so deeply I cannot, don’t want to, wake. The dispute between dark and light is constant. Solutions resolved in death. But I don’t. I carry on shouldering a weight that doesn’t want to shift. No matter my efforts. The mundane is an interminable struggle. My life has become microscopic, whittled down to the fundamental tasks of living. I lose track of days, make mistakes. I’m confused by the most simple of complexities. But somehow I manage to wake, and every day perform the basics of living, without actually living and hope against all hope that the momentum of my cumulative efforts, the momentum of the mundane, can carry me out of this depression.

Against all odds, I forced myself to paint my kitchen cabinets on the weekend.  Sadly, these days I feel no joy.  I'm sure I'll be satisfied with my efforts sometime soon.

Against all odds, I forced myself to paint my kitchen cabinets on the weekend (at around 3am on Saturday). Sadly, these days I feel no joy. I’m sure I’ll be satisfied with my efforts sometime soon.

And today? I wore earrings and put a shiny ring on my finger before I left for work. *sigh* life is in the details, right?

Desperate for sleep

Who in their right mind wakes up at 2am, wanders aimlessly about for a bit and then decides to strike while the iron is hot (awake)…. and makes a cheese sauce to freeze. It would appear that person is ME! And then I flit from project to project until I hear the first train run – 4:15am and think – shit, I really should be getting some sleep; how am I going to make it through the day; what is to become of me… and then the automatic big leap to thoughts of suicide.

When will this relentless cycle of insomnia/disturbed sleep end? It was triggered by the stress of a late night at work, under the pressure of meeting deadlines whilst battle against a dreaded computer virus. This occurred on 11 April 2016. My sleep pattern has never been the same again.

insomnia

My doc prescribed olanzapine, in addition to the 50mg trepline and 2mg dormonoct, to help me sleep. It didn’t help. So this weekend I raided my stash and found some cloment. I halved it and slept like the dead. Great! But the downside is I sleep all day as well. So that rules out taking it during the week.

I am exhausted. And feel like I will never sleep normally again. Perhaps its time to take some leave? Really knock myself out. And do some healing things like going to the beach and getting some sunshine in my blood?

Doesn’t sound like a bad idea… Watch this space.

Another day

I yawn and tears come to my eyes

this comes as no surprise

feel like I need a lifetime of sleep

just to get through the last day of the week

let me have a bath

that might be a good place to start

before its off to work

to get stuck in the dirt of another day another dollar

this forcing myself is such a horror

I don’t want to start today, it’s another tomorrow

I just want it over

I want to sleep

for a week

disappear from my mind

into something more kind

A waking hell

insomnia you waking hell
for whom the bell tolls
it tolls for me
please ease
so I can sleep
instead my eyelids blink blink, blink blink
one hundred thousand times to the brink
of dawn of day
with it’s bright orange rays
and my eyes still open
squint
with yet another days imprint
I’m left to long for the long days end
in hopes the night’s revenge
is kept at bay
if only for today
but it visits again as it did yesterday
I’m not religious but I may have to pray
for serenity and sleep deep
for it’s not within my reach
blink blink, blink… blink… blink…

Home Sweet Home (the sequel)

this week’s been crazy
and maybe just maybe
i’ve got my sweet home
now just need to take a loan
the offer’s been signed and sent
and I await his consent

I’ve hardly slept
had days when I’ve wept
or snapped and yelled
‘cos I’ve been overwhelmed
despondent then excited
then just downright frightened

I must keep the end in sight
because in the end it’ll all be alright
now if only I could sleep
that would sure be a treat