Sunday, January 12, 2014

Anxiety + Obsession+ X = Compulsion

I wouldn’t necessarily say I have an addictive personality.  Alcohol, I can take it or leave it.  A glass or two of wine always adds a little zest to a stressful holiday or a backyard barbecue.  I am nothing of a gambler.  I will play some of those word games but I often lose interest and take days taking my turn.  I don’t need that rush that you get from shopping or falling in new love over and over again.  I sometimes get stuck in a rut of doing the same thing over and over, especially laundry but that is not my doing.  I can’t really blame Bipolar for that one either.  It is mostly the crumbs that feel the need to change their clothes no less than ten times a day.

I do, however, have obsessive thoughts.  My brain never shuts up.  My brain has a way of taking one thing and blowing it so out of proportion that the original thought is no longer recognizable.  The what-ifs get so expansive that in a matter of minutes I have scripted an entire movie in my head with the most horrific ending just by wondering if the battery in the smoke alarm is still working.  I think they call that “catastrophic thinking”.  That is a pretty accurate description.  I always cry at the end as if what I just thought really happened.  I really just lived through that horrible experience.

If I lay my head down and I think about something I read or heard or even saw on TV and I have even the most mundane question about it I must seek out the answer immediately.  There is no way to distract myself from the thought.  No way to rest my mind.  It can not wait until morning.  There is no where in my brain for this nagging thought to live.  I must get it out of my head.  It’s importance is somehow magnified by the anxiety of not knowing.  I must immediately leave my warm bed and venture to the laptop where my friend, Google, will certainly provide me with the answer.  If it is a complicated question I will most likely spend hours, fighting through a medication haze, and will not give up until I find that answer.  I will say this, my anxiety and insomnia was much greater before I became acquainted with a search bar.

It would make sense that some Psychiatrist would have given me that label “OCD” by now.  I have the obsessive thoughts that always initiate a compulsive reaction but the things that I obsess about and then compulsively take action about are never anything like what you see in the movies.  I don’t need to walk around my bed three times before laying down, or have my wardrobe organized by size and color although that is a dream of mine, in a rotating closet no less.  But now that I think about it, I do have to rinse my glass three times before drinking out of it even if I just pulled it from the diswasher and all of the hangers must be plastic and they must be facing left.  This gives me something to think about.  I don’t really know all of the specifics of Obsessive Compulsive Disorder.  I will Google it.  I must find the value of X.

Saturday, January 11, 2014

The Ugly Filter

Everyday I hate life a little more.  I don’t know why.  I mean, I do but the reasons are more chemical and less environmental.  As in, my brain is more jacked than the situations and tragedies that life keeps dumping into my lap.  I try to remind myself that it could be worse.  I could live in a third world country with dirty water and no tampons.

I have been swinging up and down for the last few months.  I can not get level and it is so exhausting.  I can’t write, I can’t read, my mind is racing all over the place.  I worry about everything every single day.  To make matters worse, I have been looking through the “ugly filter” and I can’t seem to take it off.  The “ugly filter” is not really a thing.  It is what I call the way I see things when I am in this particular mood.  The sky is gray, the grass is gray, my hair is gray.  Everything, no matter how glorious is shit. Oddly, when I am in this mood is when people always need to talk to me or need me to do something for them.  Unfortunately, I usually try to accommodate their requests but it just leads me to not really listening, not having any empathy for their situation, giving them shitty advice or just completely avoiding them which just makes me look like a shitty person…and feel like a shitty person then I feel guilty for being a shitty person.

When every thought in your head(and the ones that slip out of your mouth)is negative you have to wonder what is the purpose of life and why are you even here?  And as sure as you will ask that question there will be some asshole that will say something less encouraging and more idiotic like ”if every day was wonderful and there was no sorrow and pain how you would you know how to appreciate the happy days?”  I would fucking figure it out.

Life is shit because this stupid whore Bipolar won’t leave me be.

I wrote this many months ago but I think it has an important message.  I am not looking through the "ugly filter" as of late. 

Racing Thoughts to the Bathroom

Bipolar is a lot of nasty things.  It is a greedy, little bastard.  It wants to control your brain and part of the process to conquer your brain is filling your head with racing thoughts.  Big, expansive,  racing thoughts.  A scrambled up mess.  Having racing thoughts is much different from having a lot on your mind because you “have a lot on your plate”.  I have to remember to get the ingredients for the church potluck when I go to the grocery.  I can’t believe that Bill and Betty are divorcing after all these years.  Did I set the TV to record American Idol?  Johnny’s dentist appointment is Tuesday, I am sure he will need braces.  I almost forgot that Little Katie needs to sell 50 more boxes of Girl Scout cookies to meet her goal.  How will I ever get this done?  I think the “normal” people have some type of organization to their thoughts no matter how overwhelming their lives are.

Manic thoughts can be the same content but they are hard to organize and summarize because they are bigger and faster.  It’s like trying to sweep up sand…on the beach…in a hurricane.

I have to pee.  I have to remember to get the ingredients for the potluck when I go to the grocery.  That towel rack is crooked.  I can’t believe that Bill and Betty are divorcing after all these years.  Maybe I don’t have to.  It will have to be a casserole.  Did I set the TV to record American Idol?  Johnny’s dentist appointment is Tuesday, I am sure he will need braces.  He was probably cheating.  I almost forgot that Little Katie needs to sell 50 more boxes of Girl Scout cookies to meet her goal.  That kid on the AT&T commercial is so cute, I just want to put her in my pocket.  Those judges are stupid.  I should paint the bathroom pink.  I need potatoes.  Did I pee yet?  I can probably lay new tile by myself.  What were those cookies we had in elementary school made with? What was that noise?  How much are braces?  Did I pay the cable bill?  And laundry detergent.  Like you really like it, you want more, you want more…just cracks me up!  They should put me on there.  Was that the phone?  It can’t be that hard.  Am I still trying to pee?   She could do better anyway. Those cookies were pink.  I need to paint my toenails.  Probably a million dollars, his grill is so jacked up.  Jello, I think.  Am I still sitting here? Why the hell do I have to sell the cookies?  Never fails, damn phone rings every time I go to the bathroom.  Damn, that picture is crooked too.  Did we have an earthquake?  Am I going to be getting a freakin’ badge for this shit?  What if I am peeing and we have an earthquake?  I bet it’s on Pinterest.  Shut up, brain!  I just need to pee!

Yes, I literally have to tell my brain to shut the hell up so that I can do something as simple as pee.