8/4/2015     12:07am

I went to group tonight and shared honestly. I feel like I’m at the beginning of losing my mind. I’m in a dysphoric hypomania with the return of physical symptoms I haven’t seen in a long while. I feel strangled by my schedule but it’s what keeps me going. I’ve tried telling people what’s going on but I find no validation. Tonight the group’s wisdom was delegation. Again and again I heard the word “delegate,” as if reassigning some of my tasks would magically make me feel better. The only things that make me feel better right now are chocolate chip ice cream and sleep. They also recommended rest, which I already do, and doing fun things. Did they not listen? I’M FUCKING TIRED. I’m okay and then I’m not. I get dizzy, weak, nauseous. My heart beats too fast and reality fades in and out. Sometimes it’s hard to stay upright or not fall over. But sure. Delegate.

People wonder why I lie, why I don’t tell them the truth. They pointed out tonight that I lied about how I was doing before my last crash, said I hated my life. What they don’t realize is that I lie most of the time and have never really liked my life. One person listened to my request for validation but filled it with a compliment about my work at group. Could not one person have said, “That sounds really difficult. I’m sorry you’re going through it?” Or maybe, “I hear that you’re struggling. Thanks for sharing?” A few people offered to do tasks for me. I just need ice cream and sleep, for now.

I tried going to Ralphs for socialization after group. I could feel my body crashing. I made it through the line at Chipotle and ate my food. I leaned on the table as I listened to the people talk. At one point I just started singing. The noise was too much, too much stress. Cuddling with the group who had spontaneously gathered at the end of the table was too much. I walked back to the pharmacy to check my blood pressure, which was elevated. My vision was coming in and out, dizzy, shaky, unsteady gait. I tried peeing and sitting down again but my body is in less distress when moving so I took to walking around the produce section before sitting in the car for awhile and leaving. I had some ice cream, felt better for about twenty minutes and now I’m exhausted again. I hate my life.

For the record, please don’t tell me to delegate. Especially if you’re someone I’ve delegated tasks to before that you have failed to complete. It makes me angry. Thank you.

© Michelle Routhieaux 2015

So… this is life

3/20/15     9:55pm

So… this is life.

It’s 9:55pm. I’m sitting on the tile floor of a hotel next to an ATM. The world around me seems surreal. I did Scotty’s dance, taped Missi’s. People greet me and ask how I am. Some of them ask with a knowledge from Facebook of the hospital. Some have no idea. To those whose eyes say they know, I am trying to be honest. A new thing for me. My doctor warned me I would overheat on seroquel and geodon. She failed to tell me what to do not to. One intermediate Scotty workshop brought my blood boiling to a point it shouldn’t reach until well into a Saturday night dance or several advanced routines in a row outside on a hot summer black asphalt day. I must brainstorm for tomorrow. But I’m tired.

There’s cold air blowing on me.
I really love to dance.

I’m not sure why I feel sad here. I don’t feel connected. I don’t feel alive. I guess I don’t feel ready. Will I ever? I want to dance again but I don’t have faith in me. I need help to believe. I don’t even know what a healthy person’s life looks like. What am I s’posed to want? And for whom?

(deep breath)
STOP (DBT skill) Now what did that stand for? (practice skill) Well, now I feel sadder.

Check the facts:

  • I’m at Possum Trot.
  • I’m sitting alone in a noisy lobby.
  • I feel sad and scared.
  • I am also excited to be here.
  • I feel free on the dance floor.
  • My face and neck are twitchy.
  • I stayed awake today.
  • I got to hug and laugh with Scotty.
  • I am able to dance w/o pain.
  • Mom is here.
  • I am scared for it to be over.
  • I really want to dance and feel loved.
  • I am fragile.
  • I am safe.

I’d like to watch Peg + Cat now.
My head hurts.

I want to feel safe.
Will I ever be a dancer again?
I need to go to sleep.

© Michelle Routhieaux 2015