It was way overdue. I finally made the appointment to see the medical professional who arrives at the magical mixture of pills that assists in my management of my silly brain.
What we talked about has shattered my self image. I'm contemplating life changes that feel foreign to me. Control. I think I would have to surrender control.
Hi. I'm a workaholic and I've been in overdrive lately, especially the past two weeks. Last week I worked 76 hours; 48 of those were 12-hour shifts on consecutive nights. To this was added my usual 4 hour shifts and some odd hours here and there. This week I worked 60 hours; 24 of those were 12-hour shifts on consecutive nights. The frightening part is that I'm physically tired, but feeling a little high, too. It's hard to determine if my willingness to work so much was tied to my fear of not surviving or tied to the high that comes from pushing myself. From past experience, I know that this behavior results in a crash-and-burn -- what my prescriber called a psychotic break.
Prior to this work binge I was already experiencing paranoia and hearing voices. I have arrived at a few ways of lessening the impact of these symptoms -- reminding myself that without evidence in support of negative "talk" that I hear, the voices are not real. It keeps the anxiety down, but is exhausting. Besides, by the time I am experiencing the symptoms, I'm past the point where I should have asked for help.
The Zyprexa has helped in the past. Although the sleep is deep and cleansing, it feels like it takes forever to fully awaken. The language issues (the wrong words keep coming out of my mouth -- like "mouse" for "mouth")are not very helpful when working with my clients.
So we begin trying out new drugs. And scheduling enough sleep time to allow them to work.
Meanwhile, I've had to admit that the maximum time that I can work without feeling overwhelmed is a mere four hours. If I have a break of several hours, I can work another shift without problems. The trouble is that I've accepted consecutive shifts where there has only been 30 - 45 minute breaks and those were for travel.
Working 4 hours a day, or possibly a few hours more, means that I can't support myself. Tomorrow I begin knocking on doors. I go to agencies that can help me explore housing options, medical care options, and the possibility of disability.
"Disabled" is not a term I'm comfortable applying to myself. No matter how difficult life has been, I've always been able to get through tough times. Of course, then I collapse. I've always taken care of myself and others. Well, maybe taken care of others more than myself. Taken care of others at the expense of my own wellbeing.
Time to re-examine my core self. Who am I? What are my goals? What are realistic expectations? Is it realistic to expect to have a life of prosperity, filled with true friends, good health, and love (my declaration of New Year's Day)? What is a realistic housing situation for me? Must I always be alone?
Pondering.
