Posts Tagged ‘irritability’

Hulk no understand why internet not amuse Hulk

Tuesday, July 13th, 2010

The last few weeks I’ve been a little lax in writing here mostly due to spending a great deal of time sitting in dumbfounded wonder going “I don’t feel like crap.  …I don’t feel like crap!”  And then looking around in confusion about what to do with myself.  It’s been a while.  I amassed a whole list of brief tidbits and observations about completely inane and lighthearted things that I thought I might write about sometime.  When I felt like it.  Because who wants to waste time writing when one could be, like, breathing, or walking around or something.

…Which means that when, in the last week or so, I found myself suddenly surrounded by those dark grey clouds that follow around gloomy cartoon donkeys, it was a bit of an unexpected kick in the teeth.  I don’t know exactly what’s gone awry.  I don’t know if it was just such a relief to not be completely knocked flat that things felt temporarily better than they were.  I don’t know if the pressure and stress of What To Do Next started getting to me.  I don’t know if my chemistry was a little fried from the past year of medicinal craziness.   Am I getting enough sleep?  Enough sun?  Enough caffeine?  Am I getting too much natural sugar?  Not enough sugar?  Did I step on a crack?  That mother’s back thing always seemed a little suspicious if you ask me.

At any rate, the last few days in particular have kind of sucked.  Kind of sucked like a cute little all encompassing vortex of despair.  I’ve been a bit loathe to admit that here, to be honest.  I was so happy to be doing better, damn it.  Plus, putting it in writing makes it all somehow more real.  And it already feels deceptively permanent.  I would probably be a lot less disappointed a lot less often if I could sincerely take each day as it comes, but as it turns out I am less good at that, and more super super great at taking the feelings of the moment and projecting them over the next several months.  So those two days I was feeling super productive mean it’s time to plan for a return to work, and the last couple days of crapitude mean I’m doomed to another lasting stretch of boredom and hopelessness and bad T.V.

All in all, I just feel sort of lost at the moment.  I’m so eager to just GET ON WITH THINGS already.  Filling in a quick depression inventory scale gives numerical backing to the fact that yes, I am indeed feeling much like crap.  Except for the thoughts of self-harm (which inexplicably but thankfully seem to be missing), I’ve got every symptom off the charts again.  Fuck.  There are still things to be tried.  I am way too stubborn not to kick this thing eventually. …But sheesh.  How freaking long am I supposed to wrestle with this??  …And why did my brain just provide “moose canoe” as the appropriate profanity to follow that statement?   At least I know that while I may not be in any danger of recovering in the near future, I am also apparently in no danger of becoming normal.  Phew.

This time around has some new bits to it too.  I used to rate fairly minimally on the whole “irritability” side of things.  I’m more likely to burst into tears than to burst into a room through the wall.  Not so this time, apparently.  This time my husband gives me a dirty look for accidentally brushing his face with my foot in my attempt to get off the couch (from my admittedly unconventional positioning), and I go from “meh” to “KILL!!!” in ten seconds or less.  Except that I haven’t lost the other symptoms either, so now I’m crying and angry and the back of my mind is telling me that clearly we’ve lost all of our closeness and our relationship is doomed.  And I want to smash things.  And swear.  And swear about smashing things.   I’ve gotten pretty good now at telling the difference between sincere emotions and the bizarre parodies induced by chemical changes, and let’s just say these ones are having a little chemical parade.

So mostly I am just waiting things out for the moment.  I go through the motions of low-energy activities during the day, and try to roll as gracefully as I can with the waves of “Aaaaaaaah” that tend to hit me in the evening.   And try to keep in mind that this could all be dramatically different tomorrow.  It happens that fast.

On the plus side, this gives me time to do normally not-as-engaging things like sift through my older Google Analytics stats and learn that now in addition to the multitude of hugging animal searches, antidepressant questions, bits of random Russian, and quests for stick figures doing various (mostly dirty) things, I’ve now also welcomed in a not insignificant number of search hits from “hulk no understand” and several variations on “amuse me, internet!”  Love it.

Of Violence and Baked Goods

Sunday, September 6th, 2009

So, pardon the lack of communication lately, but as mentioned I’ve been weaning off of the Effexor since it seemed to make things so much worse, and OH MY LORD is the Effexor withdrawl making me crazy.   And I had thought the consistent dosage was problematic!

I was in the grocery store today, with my cart parked in an open area while my husband and I were deciding on something or other, and some woman pushed by me with the bitchiest, most insulting, most accusatory, exasperated “excuse me” I have ever heard.  And sweet heavens, did I want to PUNCH HER IN THE FACE.  One has to understand that I am all of 5’3” tall, size 2, and an absolute heartfelt pacifist.  I quite literally apologize to bugs when I squish them in my house rather than taking them outside.  And then I feel guilty about it.  But damned if I didn’t want to jump her in the laundry aisle.  I’m fairly sure that had she come back to get in my face, I quite sincerely would have started a produce-area brawl.  …Just a bit out of character for me.

(normally I only brawl near the frozen foods)

My poor husband had the luxury of being with me all day today and joining me on the crazybus.  I’ve been ferociously irritable, and very, very mentally vacant (which mostly means that I know I’m really mad. …I’m just not sure why).   We split up for a moment during the grocery excursion, and I literally had to go back and ask him what one of the TWO whole items I had gone to get was.  …Then proceeded to forget what the other one had been by the time I got to the appropriate area.  I eventually remembered, since I knew it had to be something nearby, but it was frigging difficult, let me tell you.  In the span of about an hour my mental faculties went from reasonably strong to sea cucumber.  Except at least sea cucumbers seem to know what they’re doing down there.  I’m being BEATEN OUT by sea cucumbers.

Oh…and the cravings.  I want to eat.  Anything.  Everything.  And I don’t just want to eat, I want to OVEReat.  Until I’m bursting.  I want to eat until I physically cannot stuff anything else in my stomach, and then start looking sideways at my ears and nostrils, like maybe something edible would fit in there… We passed by the bakery section today to get some tortillas, and I literally stopped dead in front of a package of double chocolate cookies.  Two dozen double chocolate cookies.  And I wanted to eat every single one.  Right there.  I know that this is not good for me.  I realize that rationally I have worked very hard to get myself down to my current weight, and do not want to lose all of that progress in one or two months of sweet, sweet indulgence.  But I also REALLY, REALLY want to eat those cookies.  I was trying to explain my dilemma to my husband (who was trying to be supportive, but really just wanted to exit the store now.  …Preferably without a wife suddenly 24 cookies larger).

“Something is seriously messed up with me right now.  I just really, REALLY badly want to eat that whole package of cookies and punch somebody.”

A moment later, still standing in front of the cookies, as my will is strong enough not to have put them in my cart or mouth, but not quite strong enough to leave them, I am asking with pleading tones if it wouldn’t be justifiable to get the cookies, since I was so good and didn’t punch anyone.

No,…I didn’t really think so either.

(I did not get the cookies.  …But I still want them.  A lot.  Distractingly so, really.)

So life, it seems, is going to be a bit of a roller coaster for a while.

And my husband may or may not come home from work next week to find me stuffing cookies in my ear.