Whirlpool.
November 16, 2009
Oh, God.
Oh GOD.
I feel myself being sucked down despite my best intentions.
So far calling the doctor repeatedly hasn’t worked. I can’t concentrate enough to think of what might.
The cycle that always begins after the meds disappear is familiar and painful at the same time. I’m not going crazy because I spent 28 years of my life feeling this way and I know how to handle it and take care of responsibilities and keep everyone around me mostly happy.
So it’s not craziness.
I’m not unable to handle things, I’m not becoming a bad parent, I’m not failing at work, I’m not behind on bills or responsibilities or planning.
Logically knowing that doesn’t take away from the fact that part of me feels like I’m going crazy because the medicine makes such a difference.
And this pattern is so familiar that it’s heartbreaking. Watching it come and being somewhat powerless at the moment is an odd feeling. But despite my best planning, a few glitches in the marriage/insurance changeovers have caused me to reach this point and so I can just brace myself.
I’d be fooling myself if I said this was only on the inside and doesn’t affect those around me. I’d also be fooling myself AND punishing myself if I said this is drastically affecting their lives.
The main change to outsiders is that I cry more. But we’re a family of criers so my lack of crying was as odd to them as purple elephants would have been.
So it’s comforting in a small way to know that this is barely a glitch to them.
It’s just me – and my husband – that feel the weight of this.
And he doesn’t understand how this works necessarily – but being 900 miles away is hard for a man who loves to fix situations and make people happy.
So this whirlpool isn’t unfamiliar.
Isn’t large by anyone’s standards.
But I’m standing above it, staring down.
I’ll be fine.
We’ll be fine.
And I know this.
But boy do I hate seeing the waters swirling below me/before me.
My heart went out to you while I was reading this–it initially caught my eye because I so often relate to my experiences as feeling like a whirlpool and I love that you can relate to that feeling as well. You are not going crazy, I promise. Hang in there–take good care of yourself.
Amelia
I’ll try.
Sometimes even KNOWING that you won’t sink isn’t quite enough, is it?
Nope. Cause sometimes you can KNOW something, but you can’t FEEL it, in your core. And that almost makes you want to negate the KNOWING, because if can’t feel it, you can’t believe it. (Can you relate to that?) It’s hard to just trust something, even a piece of knowledge…but we have to hold onto something, right? Try to hold onto it. You’re going to be okay. You are. Promise.
Absolutely I can relate to that. Logic tells us that we’ve done this over and again and we’re going to be fine.
But I don’t feel fine.
I don’t feel miserable.
I just don’t feel fine.
I’m unsettled and anxious and nothing is put where it’s supposed to go and nothing is as it should be.
Which. Is annoying because I can’t focus enough to put things to rights anyway.