I’m afraid. Afraid of words that are labelling me. Afraid to sleep alone. Afraid to spend the days alone. I’m afraid.
I know it’s just a word. I’m good with words. It’s a diagnosis. But it’s a diagnosis that I don’t completely understand. I’ve been digging, trying to find resources for myself and to share with others. Honestly, there’s not much out there. Did this just pop up out of nowhere? How do they even know this is me? Then I look at the symptoms again, and my past behaviors with and without medications, and realize this is me.
I’ve always been so good at being alone that it’s never bothered me before. But now, the silence is deafening. There is no joy. Only me and the shadows that come around every so often. I think it’s the silence that scares me the most. But being around people and noise is too much. I just want you, just you.
And that scares me too. I’m too dependent on you. It’s too much for you, for me to put all my fears into you. To hold me up when I’m falling apart and yet, here you are with the tape and glue. It’s too much for one person. And I’m afraid that I’m killing you or pushing you away by pulling you too close.
I just feel afraid of everything and I don’t know how to make it stop.
Looking back on my behavior over the past couple of months, and my bank account, I’ve come to realize I’m a compulsive shopper.
I have urges. And even though I can’t afford to go shopping, I have to. I need to go. I need to buy things. I need things, even if I don’t really need them. Even if I literally have no money for them. My bank account can be at $20 and I’ll go buy something for $50, putting us in trouble. And I simply can’t stop myself. Because even after I’ve done that, I still need to shop.
I don’t know if it’s being used as stress relief, you know how people say shopping is cheaper than therapy… I have been stressed lately, struggling with my depression and mania. I know I went shopping when I was manic and spent quite a bit of money. There was a time before that where I spent hundreds of dollars, I can’t even tell you what I bought… I’m a compulsive shopper.
Noticing I have a problem is the first step. I’ve admitted that I have this issue. I’ve told my husband what I’ve done and that I’ve got a problem. That we need to figure out a way for me to stop doing it, to recognize the signs.
I also think that I need therapy. I’m currently trying to find a counselor in my area that will help me, with everything actually.
Do you have a problem with impulsivity it compulsions?
The last time I blogged, I was manic, I was on top of the world.
Then came the crash.
They say the higher you go, the lower you fall, well I believe it. I crashed hard.
I’ve been noticing some things about myself lately, that I really don’t like. And I’ve come to realize that my self care has taken a backseat to everything. There are other things, little things, like not watching what I say before I speak, or not eating properly. But the self care, that’s a big red flag that needs to be addressed. It shows me that I’m getting bad again.
I’ve noticed that my depression makes me not care. I couldn’t careless that I haven’t showered in a week. Meaning that I, literally, stink; my hair is an oily, greasy mess that hasn’t been brushed in days; my face is oily and dirty. I don’t remember the last time I brushed my teeth or put on deodorant. I’m just going through the motions of making it through the day.
I’ve noticed that I was doing these things even while I was having my manic episode, but I think I showered that day, I can’t honestly remember.
I know that I’m not eating like I’m supposed to, if I even eat at all. I’m surviving on caffeine and water. But not enough water at that. Because I simply don’t care to take enough care of myself.
I’ve been so busy working, or trying to work – as I haven’t been doing a fair job at my job, just enough to keep up appearances – and trying to take care of everyone else that I don’t care what happens to me. I’m not suicidal or anything like that. I simply don’t care.
When you get to this point, you have to start caring, which is hard. But no one is going to take care of you but you. And you can’t care of others if you don’t take care of yourself. So I’m starting to try again. Picking myself up, dusting off everything and trying again. Because I’m a caregiver to many, it’s my job, but it’s also my reality. And I know that I can’t pour from an empty cup.
So if that means that I have to take an hour for myself, to center and refocus, I’m going to have to start doing it. And I’m going to have to start showering again, because this has gone on long enough.
If you’re at this point, I want you to know, it’s ok. But you need to take care of yourself. It’s one of the hardest things to do, especially if you’re taking care of others. But you matter, and that means you have to matter to yourself too. Get up, get showered, brush your teeth and your hair, meet the day. Or just sit out in the sun for a bit. Take the time to recenter yourself, meditate, read, relax. But come back to self care. Realize that you’re not alone in this fight, and many others are going through the same exact thing you are. It’s ok. And you’re going to be ok.
With peace and love.
Who needs sleep? Not me. I’ve had a few hours maybe. But I’m not tired.
Let’s go shopping! Let’s go spend money that we don’t have! Who cares that we have bills to pay? Not me. I want to shop.
Let’s go do something. I’m bored. I need to move and do something fun.
I’m on top of the world! Nothing can bring me down.
Don’t fuck with me.
Let’s go to the shelter and adopt a dog or a cat or a kitten. It’ll be fun and it helps save an animal.
Yes, I’m smoking. No, I don’t need your opinion on how bad it is for me.
I want things! Let’s go to the mall.
I don’t want to take my meds.
I don’t need to sleep.