Stuck in my Head or Stuck in my House

frustrationJust sitting here in my own living room is unbearable to my state of mind right now .  Even though I am surrounded by people who love me and whom I love in return, I am fighting an urge to run back to my room and bury myself under the covers.  Last night that’s what I did.  Everyone was watching the new episode of Bones.  I prefer season 2, which is where I am on Netflix. Watching the new episodes ruin it for me.  And it’s not even about that, it’s just the uneasy feeling I get sitting here in the quiet.  I want to scream sometimes.  I want to be loud.  I want to listen to commercials.  They don’t bug me.  They irritate everyone I live with.  Fine. I am learning to deal with it.  When you love people, uncomfortable silences aren’t supposed to be uncomfortable. But right now for me they are.

My daughter is in my lap, we are both reading.  I would be content to take her with me to escape to the bedroom. I love cuddling with her.  I love reading with her in the big red chair, which was originally intended to be my red chair. It’s only a chair, I know. But it has become a resentment in my head.  It’s big. The resentment and the chair.  Olivia and I both fit.  We both love to read. This is the chair everyone in the house wants to occupy.  We all adjust and accommodate each other.  For everyone, it’s working. I think.  It’s my head that isn’t.

I have no idea if my heightened depression is situational or chemical.  Just the other day I posted a writing about depression versus bipolar disorder because I have been recently diagnosed as bipolar after thinking my diagnosis was clinical depression since 1997.   However, I have been morbidly dark and sad since early childhood.  As of late, my frustrations and depression have been exacerbated. I don’t know why.  I am frustrated. I am at the end of my rope.  Maybe it’s chemical because I have been having suicidal thoughts and musings for a few weeks. They are worsening. Last night, when I went to my room alone, I thought of all the meds I have and played out in my head what would happen if I took them all.  However, I would NOT contemplate it because my children would be motherless.  They are basically fatherless.  And unfortunately, because our laws are so archaic and fucked up, the love of my life who takes care of them, would probably lose them because she is a woman.  So, I am here to stay.

I just feel like I am going to explode or implode at any moment.  Just yesterday, the kids’ friends came over. While their parents were here, whom I think are great, the kids and the parents were all talking at once. I suddenly felt like my head was in a vice and I crouched down on the kitchen floor so one could see me.  I grabbed my head and squeezed so hard. I pulled my hair as if that would make it better.   I made that face you make when you are in excruciating pain. This kind of noise is probably normal to everyone else, especially parents.  But to me it was magnified 1000 times.  I felt paralyzed.  What am I supposed to do?  Scream and yell for everyone to shut the fuck up?  No. I can’t do that.  That would be rude and inappropriate. Two things I have never been.  I had to come up from the crouched position off the floor with a smile on my face and pretend to be normal like everyone else.

One day, a couple weeks ago,  I was alone here at home except with my love.  My frustration got the best of me, as we are both aware of my mental illness and it’s apparent progression. She is prepared to work through this with me, and knows that I may need to release some emotion from time to time (As per my therapist).  After all, that is what is going to help me.  I screamed and stomped on the floor as hard as I could.  It felt good.  She asked if I would like to be alone.  I said yes.  I am going through a transformation which is not always pretty.  So far, this healing has not been able to unfold. I can’t do this in front of other people.  Well, I guess I could, but I will not. I do not like making other people uncomfortable.  I place other’s feelings ahead of my own.  Well shit, maybe that’s how I got to this emotional state in the first place.  So my frustration has doubled.  Which leads me back to the question…Is what I am going through more situational or is my chemical issue worsening?

Depression is the loneliest fucking place on earth. I feel like a vacant hotel.  So many rooms, corners and closets in my head.  They are overflowing with tragic information and memories.  However, vacant is the only word I can come up with up with.  I am so full, but feel so empty.  The red, staticy flashing ‘vacancy’ sign is on my forehead.  However, there are no more rooms available.  If I become slapped with anything else, anything at all, I think I am going to snap.  And won’t that just be fun for everyone here in this house.  Then again, if I feel this snap coming on, I’ll most likely keep it inside.  And just blow later.  NOT GOOD!  I am so irritated with everyone and everything lately I can’t breathe.

I actually fantasize about being taken to psychiatric hospital, a loony bin, if you will.  I feel as though I would be at home there.  They would understand me.  I actually have this wish all the time.  Living day to day life is just too unbearable.  I have felt since adolescence that I shouldn’t have been born.  I just don’t fit.  Anywhere. And anything I do, it’s just not right, not good enough.  I feel like all of my attempted accomplishments have been like trying to fit a square peg in a round hole.  I want a name for whatever the fuck is wrong is me.  I know I have received them from doctors.  But there are co-occurring issues involved as well.  It’s like the chicken and the egg…what came first.  My mental illness or my addictions?  Did one cause the other?  I don’t know. But they definitely work together, or against each other I should say.   I am getting worse, that’s all I know.  Hopefully, this Lithium will kick in soon.   I don’t need anyone to try and fix me, I just need to vent.


One thought on “Stuck in my Head or Stuck in my House

  1. You’re not alone in how you feel. Glad that you have a place to vent, and the courage to do so, openly and honestly. It helps to let it out. A great book ive read is called “Sane” by a woman with BP and addictions. It really helped me to understand a lot of my own issues and make sense of them.


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