Last weekend I got to feeling this yucky, icky feeling. One of those, ‘I’m lost in a world of humdrum, monotonous lives and I feel like I have no purpose, all my passion for anything and everything is gone, and I think I just want to lie down and sleep forever, and if I do wake up, eat a bowl of Apple Jacks, then fall back asleep until it’s time for another bowl of cereal’ kind of feelings.
I am quite certain there is a better word for that…let me think…um…depressed. Yeah, that’s it. I should have seen it coming. I really, really should have. Days before this feeling overtook me I was presenting signs of it. I will go full speed ahead with tunnel vision, doing only one thing and one thing only. (It’s always different.) Sometimes it might be watching all 472 million episodes of whatever catches my attention. Other times it might be cleaning like crazy. Like, last week I actually went on a cleaning spree and pilfered through all kinds of junk and stuff and ended up throwing away somewhere around 8 to 10 HUGE trash bags away. (I promise darling husband I threw nothing of substantial belongings away!) It wasn’t a few days later that I was throwing myself into personal research. I surfed websites for days, sometimes even having twelve files open on my google bar. I went on and on and on. And then when I was done with that I decided to sift through certain blogs going years and years back.
Of course….you probably see the pattern of highs and what normally follows a high? A low. I have to be careful with those lows. So I did my best to find a safe outlet to suffer through the low. Sometimes they last a day, sometimes much longer. This time it was four days. And I did one thing beyond that which I had to do (like work and stuff because fortunately when I have to work, my focus is geared towards not thinking about ‘self’ and paying attention and what-not.) For four days I did one thing. I played Bingo on the computer. Sigh. It could have gone a lot worse. I could have spent hundreds of dollars on the game. I maintained most of my bearings and didn’t push my family into a Great Depression or something like that.
The worst part is, well, two things. 1.) During parts of this I actually told myself I was being obsessive. I knew I should stop and yet I continued. 2.) I never saw it for what it was (the highs or lows) the entire time. It’s only after it is over that I can see it for what it truly was. So because I am apparently ‘in the know’ about all this, you can probably guess that I’ve reached the end of this episode. I have gotten it out of my system. This round, anyway.
I can see very clearly how people who suffer from OCD, Manic Episodes, Bipolar Personalities, and the likes fall….and fall hard. It’s easy to do so. I have a good support system, a solid ground around me, so when I do fall, it isn’t too hard or too far. For that I am blessed. Still, it’s a reminder for me, to me; a wake up call if you will…that I need to take better care to pay attention to myself and my moods. I fell away from the constant and daily upkeep and supervision of my mood levels. Shame on me. I probably would have caught it had I not been slack on it. But then again, I always say that. *Shrugging* Who knows if I would have or not.
I hate the after feeling though. It’s one of frustration at myself for not being stronger, better at noticing, ect. The feeling of having lost control of a part of myself is just…ugh. Again, I’m blessed, I know this. My episodes, when they do happen, aren’t life-shattering, relationship-ruining, world crumbling events. They are low key; just enough to take over a small piece of me. I still hate it though.
So, that’s where I’ve been. Where have you been lately?
Cheers, Michala
Drowning In Words ∫∫ Michala Tyann 