On Insanity And Self-Awareness

Let me start this by stating I woke up at 3:30 AM with my stomach tied in knots. I got up, went to the bathroom, and went back to bed by 3:45. Have I mentioned that this requires me extricating myself from Shilo's death grip and removing my CPAP mask? Then I need to walk to the other side of the house to use the bathroom, and I have to do it in the dark.  Yes, Shilo purchased a bedside commode so I wouldn't need to make that trek, but with an upset stomach, I'm of the opinion that flushing is better. So... I trek across the house, in the dark, turn on the bathroom light, pull down my pants, and let nature do its thing. It's very quick, cause when I'm feeling this rotten, it rushes out so fast, that I feel like my very soul has left. The toilet full with hardly any effort, I wipe myself, clean myself with baby wipes (being careful not to toss them in the toilet!) flush, wash my hands, trek back to the bedroom, crawl back into bed, reattach my CPAP, cuddle next to Shilo, and attempt to go to sleep. It was a fail. I couldn't sleep. All I could think about was all the stuff that has me worried. I kept tossing and turning, trying to get comfortable, but nothing worked. I gave up at 5, and got out of bed, repeating the same actions as above, and turned on the computer as I passed it on my way to the bathroom. I decided to write down what I'm feeling and how I'm feeling, and why I feel how I feel. It won't really solve anything, but I think that giving others a peek into my head might do others good. I'm not seeking acceptance, after all, I just want people to understand. Perhaps someone reading this will have an "Aha!" moment and see themselves or someone they Love, and maybe, just maybe, someone will be helped. Aw hell! Even if nobody reads this, at least I will get all this out, and I'll feel better for clearing the clutter in my brain.

It's important to note a few things at this time. I'm NOT suicidal. Someone might look and say "Oh my God! She said the 'S' word! She's in danger!" No, I mentioned it because people automatically assume when a person is like this, that they become suicidal. That is not the case with me. I'm not stupid. I know that death only brings on more problems, and, while I'm swimming/drowning in this cesspool of my insanity, I realize that it's only temporary. Who know? Maybe later I'll be giddy with happiness over something stupid. Right now, though, things are ugly and bleak. I take my prescribed medication like I'm supposed to, but it really doesn't fix things like some people think. Antidepressants do not make a person happy. It adjusts the chemicals in the brain, but it won't prevent someone from feeling genuinely sad. I say it makes things a little more tolerable. Trust me; I'm not numb, either. My medication allows me to be functional most of the time. It doesn't get rid of stressors or things that make me sad, (if only!) it just "helps" me to be more clear-headed about things.

Let's discuss self-awareness a bit. A good quote on this is as follows:

"Self-awareness is a psychological state in which people are aware of their traits, feelings and behaviour. Alternately, it can be defined as the realization of oneself as an individual entity."(Crisp & Turner, 2010)

In my case, I know I have certain mental illnesses, I acknowledge them to my psychiatrist/therapist and (this is the important part) I know the signs and symptoms of them, and will tell the aforementioned professional about when I'm having said signs and symptoms. I'm medication compliant. There is no denial. In a nutshell, this means that I know when I'm going off the deep end. This doesn't mean I automatically have the tools to handle it. On the contrary, all it means is that as I'm slipping, the reality that I'm slipping doesn't escape me. It's like having a huge zit on the tip of my nose and not having any hands. I see it there, I can tell someone else, but I can't fix it! I'm powerless. The zit just keeps getting bigger, and, unless someone comes along who can fix it, or I tell someone who has the ability to fix it, it only gets worse! The knowledge doesn't make things better at all. It's scary going down that rabbit hole, because I'm never sure where I'm going to wind up, and sometimes it can be ugly. Denial is a beautiful thing. Being in denial means you never have to acknowledge any of your faults. You can be blissfully ignorant. I don't have that luxury. No, I see that light at the end, and I know it’s a freight train heading my way. This leaves me to think 'What good is it for me to be self-aware? How does it really benefit me?' The truth is that it benefits me very little if I choose to not ask for help. I have a choice! That is my benefit! I used to think to myself how nice it would be to not be responsible when it came to treating my mental illness. Then reality struck. Being in a mental ward, or hospital, or institution sucks! I enjoy my freedom to come and go as I please. Choosing my bedtime, what, when, and whether I eat. Choosing between watching TV, reading a book, or using the computer. You lose those choices. I imagine it's like being in jail, or perhaps the Air Force. (I'm a Veteran) Being told when to go to bed, when to get up, when to eat my meals, and how much time I have to eat it, when to take medication, when to go to groups, etc. I'm an introvert as it is. I hate being around people and talking about stuff. I'm fine one on one. I just hate to listen to other people talking, and I wind up feeling more fragile in circumstances like that. Anyway, I feel a little bit better now that I've written this down. Still, I need to explain what I was feeling and why. 

I'm under a lot of stress. Not enough money to pay my bills, and buy groceries, plus Social Security claims they overpaid me, and they want the money back. I told them, quite a few times, and they ignored me. The money was used to pay bills, and now I'm beyond broke. That is stressful enough, but add my anxiety disorder and the mental paralysis that comes with it, and I become a helpless sobbing mess. I'm nonfunctional, unable to do the smallest task. It sucks! I can appear so cool-headed and self assured, but when things like this happens, I might as well be a newborn. It's not a good feeling. Don't be fooled into thinking I'm okay. This is just a short respite, and all that stuff, all those negative feelings will come back. For now, though, I will enjoy the calm before the storm.