I woke in a panic about 3am this morning, heart racing - it was the end of the world as we know it, as I had to get on the road, on foot, with my 10 year old son. No idea where the husband and 12 year old daughter were, but we had to try to find them.
My most pressing concern was what to pack - what did we need to survive? We had to be able to carry everything ourselves, and while we'd be able to get food from deserted houses and shops, we couldn't rely on electricity or other power sources. We might also have to defend ourselves from who knows what threats.
The dream was very vivid. So much so, that I spent the next hour or so wide awake, working through the packing list (the kids think I've completely lost the plot!). In my mind, I packed clothes, an extra pair of shoes each (there was much walking to be done), first aid supplies, matches, a self-sufficiency handbook, toothbrushes and toothpaste, knives (including two big kitchen knives, wrapped in towels), a can-opener, spoons, plastic cups, water bottles, muesli bars, torches and a supply of batteries, a couple of rolls of toilet paper (!), sleeping bags and winter coats (we might need to get through a cold winter without heating), and a photo of the missing family members. The boy was most pleased that I didn't take shampoo, but not so thrilled that I made him leave his Skylanders toys behind. There were a few other small items, but basically that was it. Interesting how you sort out priorities when the crunch comes.
So what did I take from this? Apart from reading too many apocalyptic books (there may have been zombies, but I'm not sure. There was definitely something threatening), there is very little that I'm so attached to that I couldn't leave it behind (children excepted!). And I need to start packing for the trip to England - although the knives and matches had better stay behind, and I can probably manage without taking my own can-opener and toilet paper!
Showing posts with label the crazy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label the crazy. Show all posts
Monday, July 8, 2013
Monday, November 2, 2009
could you repeat that, please?
Not a good day. Downright odd at times, especially how just about everyone I spoke to had to repeat themselves at least once. I could see them and hear them, but nothing made much sense. And I must have looked completely blank. So apologies to the doctor's receptionists, my GP, the Medicare guy, the woman behind the counter in the cafe, and the butcher. It wasn't you, it was me.
I've been so tired. I know I tend to be a night owl, but it's not usually a problem as long as I get to bed between midnight and 1am (assuming I have to be up between 7 and 7.30am). I thought it might be my ferritin (stored iron) levels again, or various stressors, or the seemingly sudden arrival of summer temperatures, and they all probably contribute to some degree. Apparently the big factor, though, might be sleep apnoea. So today's visit to the GP was to get a referral for a sleep study.
This ties in with my consultation with Jon Gabriel last week. Jon said that sleep apnoea causes stresses that lead to the production of cortisol in the body, and increased cortisol is implicated in health issues such as raised blood pressure, blood sugar levels and depression. He was talking in the context of weight loss, but his theory is that stress on the body can cause a famine reaction, whereby the body holds onto its fat stores. Imagine if fixing my sleep not only gave me back my energy and enthusiasm for life, but also made me thin! Woohoo!
I've been so tired. I know I tend to be a night owl, but it's not usually a problem as long as I get to bed between midnight and 1am (assuming I have to be up between 7 and 7.30am). I thought it might be my ferritin (stored iron) levels again, or various stressors, or the seemingly sudden arrival of summer temperatures, and they all probably contribute to some degree. Apparently the big factor, though, might be sleep apnoea. So today's visit to the GP was to get a referral for a sleep study.
This ties in with my consultation with Jon Gabriel last week. Jon said that sleep apnoea causes stresses that lead to the production of cortisol in the body, and increased cortisol is implicated in health issues such as raised blood pressure, blood sugar levels and depression. He was talking in the context of weight loss, but his theory is that stress on the body can cause a famine reaction, whereby the body holds onto its fat stores. Imagine if fixing my sleep not only gave me back my energy and enthusiasm for life, but also made me thin! Woohoo!
Thursday, October 8, 2009
united states of tara
I wouldn't mind a little more 'Alice' though - the house and family would certainly benefit from her domestic ministrations!
coming out of the fog
Things are coming back together. There is one odd side effect that I've never noticed before though: as my head is getting its act together, my body is going into spasms. Yesterday morning my neck seized up, then it spread to my left shoulder, across my upper back, and further up my neck into a stabbing headache. By last night I was in such pain I ended up sleeping flat on my back with a hot water bottle under my neck/shoulders, which didn't do much for the headache, but at least I got some rest. And then today, while the extreme pain from yesterday had subsided somewhat, my skin hurts, like it's been stretched tight (hard to explain, but it's the same feeling I get on day 3 of a migraine, when the actual migraine pain has eased, but my scalp aches).
I think I need to resolve some issues. I've temporarily blocked them out so I could cope with my own stuff, but I think I can a) let down my own defenses, and b) talk without fear of my insanity/instability/ whatever it is infecting someone else's situation.
And I think I need to look for some regular method of relaxation.
I think I need to resolve some issues. I've temporarily blocked them out so I could cope with my own stuff, but I think I can a) let down my own defenses, and b) talk without fear of my insanity/instability/ whatever it is infecting someone else's situation.
And I think I need to look for some regular method of relaxation.
Tuesday, October 6, 2009
what to do when it's all fallen in a heap
This is a reminder for me for when I'm so far down I can't think straight or make a decision, let alone a rational one, but if it can help someone else in a similar situation, then that's a bonus.
1. Acknowledge that I have the problem, and no-one else can fix it except me.
2. Acknowledge that admitting I need help isn't a sign of weakness (and I struggle with this a lot). Often it just means I need another perspective.
3. Realise that as I go into a bad period, I often go through grief stages - denial, anger, bargaining, depression, acceptance - and it's generally not possible to skip any stage. If I try, it only means a delay, and it will come anyway, so I may as well recognise what is happening and let it go through.
4. Seek help. Specific help. For me, under our current health system, this means going to the GP (and pre-rehearsing what I'm going to say, because I normally don't talk a lot about this stuff, despite how it may appear here) and asking for a mental health plan and a referral to someone (and the free visits that you get if you go through the right process) - a psychologist, a social worker or similar. In my experience, psychiatrists often want to medicate, and the strongest mood-altering drug I'm interested in is coffee, so I avoid them. What helps me (and this took years to work out) is talking. Not to friends or family so much. Not to anyone who knows my family or friends. Someone completely separate from the rest of my life, who is paid to sit there and listen to whatever I need to get out. And not someone who will tell me what to do. They can make suggestions, they can give me possible strategies to use, they can try to give me homework (but I never do it). And it can be hard to find the right person who I feel comfortable and 'safe' with, but it's important.
5. Write lists. Depending on how bad things are, my lists can be simple reminders of things I must remember, like appointments, work commitments, children's activities, or they can be detailed lists of everything I need to get through, so I don't have to stop and think (because I can be incapable of any sort of ordered thought, and end up going in circles and achieving nothing. And the point of the list is achieving something - crossing things off, no matter how small, so I have physical proof that I can do something useful and I can keep going.
6. When I start to get things back together, I start picking up the pieces, because there's always something I've damaged in the process. It usually involves apologies to my husband and children (because they've been easy targets and they've put up with a lot they shouldn't have to). And then I need to go and find my friends, put aside my pride, and apologise for my absence or stuff I may have said, and hope that I'm forgiven (and the real friends do forgive, even if they don't necessarily understand). I tend to disappear when things are bad, and that can be seen as a rejection by more extroverted people, but it's really a defence mechanism - it's about me, not them. Being an introvert, in the sense that I get my strength internally, rather than from others, I tend to not expect much from other people, and I think that's a good thing. I can't imagine going through this as an extrovert, and trying to draw strength from others who don't necessarily understand (in terms of it not being in their experience) and who don't know what I need (because I'm certainly not capable of asking for help from those closest to me).
7. I try to find something positive in the situation. Heh - Pollyanna's back! But there's always something. My lesson this time is that I can't control everything. Obvious, but it's somehow just become more real to me. If I consciously let go my innate need for control, then things will work out ok somehow. Perhaps not in the way I would have chosen, but they will work out, and it may mean I have a new experience or see something in a completely different way.
1. Acknowledge that I have the problem, and no-one else can fix it except me.
2. Acknowledge that admitting I need help isn't a sign of weakness (and I struggle with this a lot). Often it just means I need another perspective.
3. Realise that as I go into a bad period, I often go through grief stages - denial, anger, bargaining, depression, acceptance - and it's generally not possible to skip any stage. If I try, it only means a delay, and it will come anyway, so I may as well recognise what is happening and let it go through.
4. Seek help. Specific help. For me, under our current health system, this means going to the GP (and pre-rehearsing what I'm going to say, because I normally don't talk a lot about this stuff, despite how it may appear here) and asking for a mental health plan and a referral to someone (and the free visits that you get if you go through the right process) - a psychologist, a social worker or similar. In my experience, psychiatrists often want to medicate, and the strongest mood-altering drug I'm interested in is coffee, so I avoid them. What helps me (and this took years to work out) is talking. Not to friends or family so much. Not to anyone who knows my family or friends. Someone completely separate from the rest of my life, who is paid to sit there and listen to whatever I need to get out. And not someone who will tell me what to do. They can make suggestions, they can give me possible strategies to use, they can try to give me homework (but I never do it). And it can be hard to find the right person who I feel comfortable and 'safe' with, but it's important.
5. Write lists. Depending on how bad things are, my lists can be simple reminders of things I must remember, like appointments, work commitments, children's activities, or they can be detailed lists of everything I need to get through, so I don't have to stop and think (because I can be incapable of any sort of ordered thought, and end up going in circles and achieving nothing. And the point of the list is achieving something - crossing things off, no matter how small, so I have physical proof that I can do something useful and I can keep going.
6. When I start to get things back together, I start picking up the pieces, because there's always something I've damaged in the process. It usually involves apologies to my husband and children (because they've been easy targets and they've put up with a lot they shouldn't have to). And then I need to go and find my friends, put aside my pride, and apologise for my absence or stuff I may have said, and hope that I'm forgiven (and the real friends do forgive, even if they don't necessarily understand). I tend to disappear when things are bad, and that can be seen as a rejection by more extroverted people, but it's really a defence mechanism - it's about me, not them. Being an introvert, in the sense that I get my strength internally, rather than from others, I tend to not expect much from other people, and I think that's a good thing. I can't imagine going through this as an extrovert, and trying to draw strength from others who don't necessarily understand (in terms of it not being in their experience) and who don't know what I need (because I'm certainly not capable of asking for help from those closest to me).
7. I try to find something positive in the situation. Heh - Pollyanna's back! But there's always something. My lesson this time is that I can't control everything. Obvious, but it's somehow just become more real to me. If I consciously let go my innate need for control, then things will work out ok somehow. Perhaps not in the way I would have chosen, but they will work out, and it may mean I have a new experience or see something in a completely different way.
Sunday, October 4, 2009
little things
When things are difficult, and I just can't deal with the big issues, it's the little things that help get me through. In the past few days, the little things have included:
1. A new chair - bought with birthday money, and replacing the one I've sat on nearly every day for about ten years (and perhaps a little longer - and as I work from home in front of the computer, that's a lot of sitting). The chief engineer took this assembly job very seriously, as you can see:
It ended up looking just like it was supposed to :)
2. A stack of travel brochures - while we're not planning a group trip (which most of the brochures focus on), they're full of itinerary ideas, things to do and see, day trips we might go on, weather information, useful phrases, and so on.
3. 70% cocoa organic fair trade chocolate from my birthday. Enough said.
4. A husband who understands the difference between when I NEED to hide, and when I'm just avoiding things because they seem too hard. And knows when to insist that we to go out, as a family, to restock at the fruit markets (but gives me an opportunity to hide in a quiet bookshop while he takes the kids to the playground).
5. Clients who send me emails thanking me for the work I do for them. I don't expect thanks - they're paying me to do a job - but it's lovely when it does come.
1. A new chair - bought with birthday money, and replacing the one I've sat on nearly every day for about ten years (and perhaps a little longer - and as I work from home in front of the computer, that's a lot of sitting). The chief engineer took this assembly job very seriously, as you can see:
2. A stack of travel brochures - while we're not planning a group trip (which most of the brochures focus on), they're full of itinerary ideas, things to do and see, day trips we might go on, weather information, useful phrases, and so on.
3. 70% cocoa organic fair trade chocolate from my birthday. Enough said.
4. A husband who understands the difference between when I NEED to hide, and when I'm just avoiding things because they seem too hard. And knows when to insist that we to go out, as a family, to restock at the fruit markets (but gives me an opportunity to hide in a quiet bookshop while he takes the kids to the playground).
5. Clients who send me emails thanking me for the work I do for them. I don't expect thanks - they're paying me to do a job - but it's lovely when it does come.
Saturday, October 3, 2009
from the inside
Wow. This has all become a barrel of laughs, hasn't it? And as it's not likely to improve much today, here are ten signs that tell me this is more than just a couple of 'off' days.
- The huge 'up' followed by a massive crash that turns into some sort of whirlpool that sucks everything down.
- The overspending on things I don't need (or often even really want). The last time I was this bad, you had to physically go to the shops to buy stuff. This time I can shop online. It's much much worse. I am keeping it under some control by focussing on the Europe trip, but it's still a struggle.
- The inappropriate and volatile responses to external stimuli. I'm not very sensitive to others' situations, and oversensitive myself. Things I would normally shrug off and deal with seem insurmountable. I slip from guilt to anger to crushing sadness to trying not to care at all in an attempt to protect myself. And it's all bullshit.
- The inability to organise, make decisions, keep it all together. Normally I'm pretty good at all that. This household may look like utter chaos, but it functions ok most of the time. Right now, though, I can't even decide what to have for breakfast (and yes, it's 1.24pm at the time I'm writing this, and I haven't eaten today. I didn't even get out of bed until 11.30am, despite the kids being up at 7am and periodically jumping all over me. Thank goodness the husband can step up in a crisis).
- The hiding from life. I don't leave the house unless I have to, and then the husband has to organise me to make it happen. And once I'm out, I spend more. When I'm here, I'm on the computer most of the time. Not doing anything useful (like work, or talking with friends) - playing daft computer games over and over. I know it's stupid, I know it's a complete waste of time, and I'm angry with myself for doing it. But still I do it.
- The disruption to eating patterns. I go from forgetting to eat unless it's put in front of me, to eating everything I can lay my hands on, to refusing to eat because I feel ill. As for organising family meals - I can order pizza, or send the husband out for something. Or play computer games until 7pm then make something odd in 20 minutes that the kids complain about (with good reason for once).
- The constant fatigue. So tired. So hard to get out of bed in the morning. Unable to motivate myself to do anything much, because it's all such a huge effort. Feeling like I need to lie down after a shower in the morning, because I've used up all my energy resources.
- The lack of enthusiasm. I'm. Just. Not. Interested. Usually if I'm not interested in something, it's because I'm focussed on something else that's taking all my attention. But now I'm just vague and ... blank.
- The irritability. Always there, just under the surface. I like to think I'm usually pretty sensible and logical, but there's nothing sensible or logical about flying off the handle about silly little things. And that's followed by guilt, and tears, and more fatigue.
- The Bad Thoughts of giving up. Because it would make life easier for everyone else. Because it wouldn't hurt any more. Because, bizarrely, it's a way of taking control back. I don't think I would do anything - I still think it's a coward's way out. But the thoughts still lurk at the darkest times.
Friday, October 2, 2009
the word for the day
I was going to give blogging a miss today, but I want to see if I can carry through with something for a full year. I'm pretty good at starting new things, but not so good at carrying through for any length of time, so this is a big challenge for me. And that means I blog something, even if I wish today didn't exist.
So ... the word for the day is 'instability', because, as you may have noticed, that's pretty much where I am at the moment. I had visions of this being a somewhat arty, philosophical, interesting blog, but it's about me, and you're getting the raw version. Well, not quite raw - I have no idea who might come by, I haven't attempted to make this anonymous, and I'm not prepared to totally expose my psyche. Heck - I don't try to analyse myself too much - that way madness lies. Besides, some things are just plain private.
But I can live with people knowing that I'm not always terribly stable. I can be fine for months, and then it starts unravelling. The unravelling can take hours or weeks, and it can take hours or weeks or months to knit back into 'fine'. But it's not all bad. I have been medicated on two occasions, and both times have chosen to stop, because there is a very big downside, as far as I'm concerned. That's because, along with the bad days, there are some very very good days. Very good. Medication not only ameliorates the 'down' days, it cuts off the very 'up' times. And I'm not prepared to sacrifice one for the other. I feel like I can't have the good without the bad. As with most things, there has to be a balance.
So there I am, and tomorrow I may wish I hadn't written this. I may edit, but I hope I don't. Because it's part of who I am.
So ... the word for the day is 'instability', because, as you may have noticed, that's pretty much where I am at the moment. I had visions of this being a somewhat arty, philosophical, interesting blog, but it's about me, and you're getting the raw version. Well, not quite raw - I have no idea who might come by, I haven't attempted to make this anonymous, and I'm not prepared to totally expose my psyche. Heck - I don't try to analyse myself too much - that way madness lies. Besides, some things are just plain private.
But I can live with people knowing that I'm not always terribly stable. I can be fine for months, and then it starts unravelling. The unravelling can take hours or weeks, and it can take hours or weeks or months to knit back into 'fine'. But it's not all bad. I have been medicated on two occasions, and both times have chosen to stop, because there is a very big downside, as far as I'm concerned. That's because, along with the bad days, there are some very very good days. Very good. Medication not only ameliorates the 'down' days, it cuts off the very 'up' times. And I'm not prepared to sacrifice one for the other. I feel like I can't have the good without the bad. As with most things, there has to be a balance.
So there I am, and tomorrow I may wish I hadn't written this. I may edit, but I hope I don't. Because it's part of who I am.
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
the other one
I look at the photo from yesterday, and it's like a different person to the one that's here today. I like to think that the one yesterday is the 'real' me - pretty happy, upbeat, enjoying being busy, optimistic, willing to try new things and keen to encourage others to do the same. A bit of a Pollyanna.
She hasn't been around much for the past week or so. It's been rough, but yesterday I was getting on top of it all. And then it came crashing down again today. I don't much like this one - she's angry, prone to tears, full of snarkiness, intolerant, and unable to organise her way out of a wet paper bag. She can't concentrate on anything, and she doesn't really like her life a whole lot. She spends far too much time thinking about breaking things, and she's not at all competent to fulfil her roles as wife and mother (and all the other roles, but she gets a big FAIL in those two especially).
And I hope she's gone by morning.
(Okay - so now I sound like a complete freak. I don't normally refer to myself in the third person, but I prefer to think that SHE isn't me. I can still act like the Pollyanna me, so you don't need to run screaming if you see me in the street. But this is about me, and she is part of me, so she belongs here too.)
She hasn't been around much for the past week or so. It's been rough, but yesterday I was getting on top of it all. And then it came crashing down again today. I don't much like this one - she's angry, prone to tears, full of snarkiness, intolerant, and unable to organise her way out of a wet paper bag. She can't concentrate on anything, and she doesn't really like her life a whole lot. She spends far too much time thinking about breaking things, and she's not at all competent to fulfil her roles as wife and mother (and all the other roles, but she gets a big FAIL in those two especially).
And I hope she's gone by morning.
(Okay - so now I sound like a complete freak. I don't normally refer to myself in the third person, but I prefer to think that SHE isn't me. I can still act like the Pollyanna me, so you don't need to run screaming if you see me in the street. But this is about me, and she is part of me, so she belongs here too.)
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