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Love Me. Hate Me. Pretending Is Too Damn Exhausting.

Filed Under: Gifs, Mental Health
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There is something extremely annoying about right now at this time. I have good ideas for things, e.g., post topics, kids’ crafts, showering, but once I get serious about doing any of those things, they just take too damn much effort; I’m just too tired.

Doctor Who

When I’ve told my therapist about this crushing–Yeah. I know. Dramatic much?–tiredness, she’s brushed it off and mentioned how she gets tired just thinking about cleaning out her basement. OK. So me thinks she might not be picking up what I’m putting down. 

I genuinely love her and she’s a rock star therapist but she just didn’t “get it.”

Nope

I’m not talking: “Fuck. There’s so much to do and it’s gong to be a huge pain in the ass and I’m gonna get all sweaty and I’d much rather be playing video games or removing my left eye with a grapefruit spoon than lifting one finger to clean the basement.”

I’m more like this: “Fuck. I know the kitchen looks like hammered ass and I haven’t showered in a week–though I’m not going to think too hard on that one–but just the inkling of thought about doing anything with the kitchen wears me out. Makes my arms heavy.

Overwhelms me to the point I don’t know where to start so I just don’t.”

Amen

The differences are there and they’re subtle but they are there. Or I might be just using this as a bullshit excuse to be a lazy ass who doesn’t pull her weight around the house.

I mean, I AM a bit of a lazy ass.

Maybe this is an excuse? These are the things that go around in my head incessantly until “Call Me Maybe” infiltrates and nothing can stand against that crap.

Worry all the time.

The Adderall I’ve been on for a few months now has done wonders and helped quite a bit with the unmotivatedness [I made that up. Feel free to use it. No credit needed.] but the bitch of it is I have to be motivated enough to take the pill.

How’s THAT for a catch 22?

Running also helps.

Who in the history of the world would have thought:

  1. I’d ever run when it didn’t involve fleeing from some potentially deadly creature and/or event.
  2. I would enjoy the act of running for running’s sake?

 
Jennifer Lawrence tounge Like the Adderall, running has such a positive impact on my mood that it’s embarrassing I wasted so much of my life without either. I mentioned this to my shrink after a month of taking the Adderall.

Shrink: “How’s the Adderall working for you?”

Me: “It has literally revolutionized my life! I’ve started running and I actually finish things. I’ve managed to keep the kitchen picked up for two straight weeks. That’s huge for me! It makes me sad to think how different my life might be if I had discovered both of these fifteen or twenty years ago.”

Shrink: “But then you might not have turned out the way you turned out.”

Neal Caffrey White Collar gif

That last statement is a bit of a double-edged sword, isn’t it?

I’m not in a particularly awesomesauce place right now and go from WOOOOHOO FUCK YEAH to meh routinely. I convinced myself in 2012 that my meds weren’t doing any good, that they would never do any good and continuing the dosage was dumb and all of it was a waste of money.

The thing that particularly blows about titrating meds–especially when you’re [I’m] not in a consistent mental state–is there is no definitive test to know if the meds are working. It’s not like my shrink can order a blood test and know for sure I’m where I need to be; it’s subjective and I fucking abhor subjective, especially when it comes to something like this.

True story.

There’s also the little issue of not all shrinks knowing what the hell they’re doing and, like with everything, you have to be willing to advocate for yourself and that tends to be hard as hell when you’re not feeling particularly assertive and would rather just go along with what the pro says.

In my case, my friend Jennifer was right and the Straterra wasn’t playing so nice with the Lamictal and was bitch slapping the Lamictal into a “I ain’t gonna work no matter what you say!” kind of thing.

Dog slap

The good thing about my brand of crazy is I haven’t had a suicidal thought since I was about 17 and don’t plan on being that selfish; I have way too many people who depend on me to do that to them. That and even when things suck major ass, they’re still better than a pine box under around six feet of hard, red, Alabama clay.

I’m rambling.

I apologize. Oops

I had a minor epiphany a week or so ago that I’ve been playing it safe and I’ve been trying to be someone else or maybe trying to be what I thought other people wanted me to be and let me tell ya, that shit is exhausting.

This is one of my most favorite quotes from Erika Napoletano‘s TEDxBoulder 2012 video: Rethinking Unpopular and it kind of slapped me upside the head like a five day old carp:

Give them tools to help them know whether or not they should love us, and give it early and give it often. Because that’s when we stop wasting time, both ours and everyone else’s.

Fairly simple, right?

And kind of scary but I suspect it will greatly assist me in the venture of saving a modicum of sanity. If nothing else, I’ll hopefully be less mentally exhausted since I won’t be worrying about self-censoring. Love me. Hate me. I’m too damn tired of working so hard to please everyone.  

Bowing

Comments

  1. PsychoChick966 says:

    Amy, I don’t really know where to begin. I’m in that meh, I don’t really have the energy to breathe right now, kinda way….Well, let me face facts for a minute…that’s ALWAYS the way I am. I have way too long of a story to type out right here, but I’ll just say, that I empathize with you greatly. I know I don’t pop my head in here often, jot something down, but every time I read something you wrote, I do a bit of a double-take and wonder if I somehow started a blog and I can’t remember doing it. Although everything in our stories isn’t the same, a lot of our issues are the same. I’m not so eloquent as you, in writing about it though. Ugh…just reading the words shower…and about cleaning your house, make me want to roll over and pull the blankets over my head. I’m exhausted having thought about it as long as I have, to write this. I’m exhausted, period. Seriously, if I wrote my real-deal, I would probably GREATLY embarrass myself, but make you feel a whole lot better. Then again, maybe after you went, “Omg,, you too!!”, I’d feel a whole lot better. I don’t know. I know much about fatigue, suicidal ideations, moodiness, medications…and issues. I don’t know what I could ever do for you Amy, but if you need me, I got your back. You’re a great person. You’re funny as hell…seriously, I’m laughing with you, not at you. πŸ˜‰ There is much value in what you write…because you help at least me, in reading it..and I’d venture to guess there’s a lot more out there, who’re more…shy. It’s a shame you have to go through what you do…and in talking about it, and how much of your life you feel has been wasted… well, man… you just have NO. IDEA. …or, maybe you do.

    Let me just hug you, and tell you to be yourself. That’s at least one thing I have overcome a long time ago…feeling the need to be who someone else thinks I should be, or who they may think I should be. I don’t care anymore. Not in a eff you kind of matter…well, maybe in a way. I just mean that it takes WAAAAAY too much energy I already don’t have for necessary functioning, to pretend…or to guess, at who I’m “supposed” to be. Eff that. I just don’t have it in me. I feel badly when I can’t be there for someone all of the time, but I’m there when I can be. I can’t be anything more than that. I always say that I do what I can, when I can. But I do also understand that part of you that wonders if you’re getting, or are just lazy. It goes through my head ALL the time…but then again, I worry ALL the time…about EVERYTHING…ALL day long, EVERY DAY. Been that way for years. I guess I’m rambling now.. I’m always too wordy. What I should have just said was, I understand, I REALLY REALLY do. If you ever need anything or want to talk…or NOT want to talk and just BE, I’m here. Sure, we don’t really know each other…but there is comfort in talking to, or even just knowing there are others like you (Hmmm…I wonder if we’re from the same planet). It’s all good, girl. Hugs.

    • I’ve been thinking on everything you wrote in your most awesome comment and I can’t come up with anything fitting except maybe this:

    • PsychoChick966 says:

      You gave me a happee. πŸ™‚ …and I saw this today too, oddly enough. “Friendship is born at that moment when one person says to another: “What! You too? I thought I was the only one.” – C.S. Lewis” (saw on Twitter)

  2. I love you most when you’re honest. Okay and also when we stay up too late and drink and laugh and cry, but that’s honest, too. . . I stand by my first statement.

  3. FreeHamJobs says:

    Thank you for this post, Amy. And for helping me recognize some of the things that I go through, but was unable to explain.

    • Dude, thank you for commenting. I was just giving you shit about doing so. But I really do appreciate it.

      Feel free to use my ramblings to help yourself feel more normal.

  4. YAY you for being you!!!!!!! (and if I had a Britney/Santana/Quinn animated gif I’d totally upload it here. But that’s your thing.)

  5. erinmktgmama says:

    I just want to give hugs and I think you are AWESOME.

  6. kikarose says:

    You are awesome just the way you are. Please stop trying to please others and just be yourself because frankly, more of us should be trying to be like you.
    Reading this is making me think that just maybe it’s time for me to see someone about my own brand of blahs.

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