I spent the weekend in a fuzzy cloud. Not drug induced or alcohol induced thank you very much! I was just... well... out of it. My usual weekend routine was disrupted because my Dad came home to visit this weekend. That's not a bad thing, it's nice seeing him and talking to him and stuff, but it does hinder on my routine.
I know I sound rather selfish and absurd, but routine is kind of the only stable part of my existence at the moment. I like to think that I don't follow a routine, but really, I'm not spontaneous or crazy fun! I simply follow my little routine each day which ensures I don't "fall off the wagon" in my recovery.
Speaking of recovery... Am I actually in recovery? Is that what this stage of being "okay" is called when you have a mental illness? I don't think I like the term. I think it implies it's a terminal illness or something more worthy of having a recovery. Yeah, yeah I still think I am not worthy of help or getting better or anything really.
Anyway, my routine... I feel out of place now. I don't know what I'm meant to be doing and I have this overwhelming urge to just run away. My brain hasn't divulged to me why I would actually want to run away or where I would indeed go, it only allows me to feel this insanely strong urge to RUN. Failing the motivation (okay so in this case lack of motivation is simply awesome) to physically run, I have found that I've been overly tired, grumpy and more moody than usual. Holy crap, beware people the psycho-crazy-monster is about to be let loose.
At times over this weekend I resorted to taking some seroquel to calm me down and keep me "sane". That's what the meds are there for, I know, but I feel like it's a cop out to not be able to deal with the emotions and strangeness that happens inside me. (And that right there folks is a perfect example of why I'm screwed up! I'm still trying to control myself so I am the perfect child, friend, worker, person, etc.)
So now it's Monday morning and I have to go to centrestink to hand in a form so they will give me money. I hate centrestink. I hate the stigma associated with being on centrestink. I hate myself for being so screwed up I can't function in the real world.
Yeah, for those of you who are all like "just shut up and get a job" would you be willing to hire me? Would you give me a lot of time off? Even at short notice? There are days I am so anxious I think I'm going to cause myself to have a heart attack or that fatal migraine. Will you give me the day off when I feel like that?
What about when I have an anxiety attack at work... Will you know how to help calm me down? Will you have the time to help? What about when I start to think that everyone hates me and that I can't do the work properly? Are you going to notice the change in my behaviour? Are you going to know what to do when that happens?
Are you REALLY willing to have such a basket case working for you?
I didn't think so. So until I can actually manage and live with my disorder/illness/craziness I kind of have to steer clear of actual, rewarding, work.
It's one of those brilliant catch 22 situations. I want to work because it's rewarding, gives me a sense of achievement and makes me feel good. Yet I do get overly anxious, psycho weird and do have a serious problem with interpreting people's behaviours into something they're really not (usually being mean towards me.) And thus another example of how screwed up I am!
I'd better stick to my routine and get ready for the day, not that I am doing anything other than going to centrestink mind you, but the routine helps keep a sense of normality in my over imaginative head.
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