I’ve been awake the complete and total night. At this moment it is 6:28 am. The nerves in my lower back have been lit up like gaudy, trailer park, year ’round Christmas lights. It has been on the high side over 6 on the pain scale (10 being passing out). I’ve done all the things I’ve found some measure of relief in recently.
About bedtime my youngest daughter, Sydney, and I fought at each other. She’s finally letting me in. I’ve been terrified that she’ll be like me and be the one that statistics say I must have because of genetics… Bipolar.
Her school years have been horrible. This is the past. Last night I finally learned what was making her tick, what had taught that to protect yourself you should read into everything your “friends” do and say through the lense of created hysteria.
She freaked on me again for the second time in a few days (sound familiar?). The last time she punched a wall and sprained her hand. (Yes, I do know where this tendency towards violence is from. It’s in my mirror.)
Sha lashes out in true out of control style and eventually… finally… comes as near as she can to telling me the truth. Please permit me to summarize.
My meds have been changing. She sensed my shift into starting to come apart at the seams. Who or what I randomly (and daily, I’m BP 1 mixed state) am. She’s afraid of what she sees me becoming again.
I wanted to change my meds. My reasoning was sound as it could be in my circumstance. I responded in the worst way. Simply put I’m moody, depressed, eating too much (much to much) unpredictable, beyond irritable, anger and totally torqued off that the goal I set for myself isn’t going to happen. Regardless of the reasons why.
I’m really pissed and angry and depressed and in physical pain. And, my baby has taken to blow up in my face.
I see my med provider at 9:15 this morning. I’m having my son drive because my current load of meds helps me nod off while driving. And I’ve needed to do 3-4 hours sometimes 4 days a week. It’s so stressful. Sydney is also meaning time drive. Driving school is 2.5 hours three times a week plus drives with my mother and myself.
She has a little job. I’m super proud of her. And super disappointed. I thought she trusted me. She’s far from that. She lives with me. At this time I’m freaking her over the top. She’s lashing out… like I do.
She has finally told me the truth. She’s afraid of me. Oh not physically. Mentally. Emotionally.
My response in my head announced with finality that despite what literally every one says… I’m a pretty shit type parent. I’ve only seen her act out. I’ve tried every which way I can think of to break into this newly pinpointed .
I’m seeing my Med provider in a few hours. I haven’t slept more than … okay, maybe not at all. I’m going to try now. I might bet 2 or so. Kyle will drive so falling asleep driving, won’t be my problem. Coming home for 30 minutes and then dashing off to my first physical therapy for my back. I’m scared about that. My spine will be, well, it will punish me (Can’t quite think of a way put that.)
I just nodded off. I’ll fill you in when I know what our plan action will be.
I don’t believe in luck.
Hope that I get lucky.
And, fell asleep again.
I’ll proof this later.