Today is hard.
Why? I’m tired and irritable, as I have been for the past few days. This medication taper has been messing with my system and with my ability to emotionally regulate. I’ve been resenting my limited independence and what I’m currently unable to do. My husband had to cancel an appointment this evening because our plans fell through at the last minute, I can’t spend long periods alone, and we couldn’t find someone else to hang out with me on short notice. Whereas maybe I’d normally be able to process this series of events a bit more rationally, I took it, given everything else, as a reminder of what a burden I am/can be.
This, my friends, is what hardcore wallowing by a semi-professional in the field looks like. (Here’s where you imagine me taking a bow, favouring my still-stronger right side.)
It hasn’t all been doom and gloom; indeed, I’ve been making a noble effort to find a way out of the very deep pit of despair that I currently inhabit. I chilled with a pal this morning, and my husband and I had a lovely late lunch with friends who were passing through town. Both activities provided some short-lived, and necessary, distraction. Now, however, I’m back to where I started: down on myself, a little weepy, wishing I could trade in my brain for something less defective, angry at myself and at the world, desperately wanting my life to be less precarious.
I have enough self-awareness to know that as time goes on, things will improve. My job right now is to accept my situation as best I can and work, at a realistic pace, towards making it better. Most days, I’m cool with that; today, not so much.
Ask me tomorrow.