Anyway.
I woke feeling fairly normal, with the usual aches and pains. I got out of bed, made myself some brunch, and watched some stuff on Netflix. About half an hour after I ate, I started getting symptoms of anxiety again: dizziness, fluttering heartbeat, sense of impending doom, blah, blah, blah. I countered this with some deep breathing, music, and a small Photoshop project. The symptoms seemed to come back as soon as I stopped putting my mind to something, though. (I want to clarify that this is different than my manic state. I do not usually feel any anxiety or irritability when I'm manic.) This kind of anxiety makes me want to shut down and not do anything at all. I feel like I just want to curl up in a ball in a cool, dark room and sleep. Since I have no real schedule, I have to work very hard to resist this urge.
Today, I was helped along by a beautiful thunderstorm. I love storms. They have always made me feel good. It's better than any drug I've ever taken. I feel a little rush of adrenaline, and yet I am soothed by the sound of rain and wind and thunder. This has been true ever since I was a toddler; I was never afraid of storms. So sometimes, when anxiety hits, I try to imagine a storm. Today I actually got to go outside and dance in the rain. I'm sure the neighbours thought I was crazy. (Well, they're right, but not for that reason.) Screw what other people think. It felt wonderful to have the cool rain soaking me to the skin after so many hot and muggy days.
After the storm, I started on a drawing, but it didn't turn out the way I wanted it to, so I scrapped it. I remember when I was little and I made a mistake on a drawing. I would angrily tear up the paper. Similarly, when I was playing the piano and I hit a wrong note, I would get extremely angry. I would often bite my own hands to punish myself for making a mistake. I was four or five when I started that behaviour. I'm pretty sure no one actually taught me that. I seem to remember being discouraged from hurting myself or throwing tantrums when I made a mistake. Now, as an adult, I try to keep all my drawings, even if they're not good enough (in my opinion) to finish.
Sorry. That was random. Stream-of-consciousness writing sometimes gets that way. Let me come to the point: all I want is an even keel. I want just one day when I don't have to deal with mood swings. My cycles run on a matter of hours. It makes it really hard to get anything done when the boat keeps rocking and I'm chasing my motivation from port to starboard all day instead of being able to take the wheel. (Have I used the metaphor adequately? I think so. It's because I've been watching stuff about boats.)
Maybe I need to start doing hourly mood assessments again. When I did them before, the awareness of the cycles helped me to deal with them somewhat. I eventually found it tedious and felt that the practise had outlived its usefulness to me, but there's no reason I can't re-use old tools.
As before, I'll end with grateful. I'm grateful for the storm today. (Hail Thor!) I'm grateful for being able to write about all this stuff, because getting it out reduces my anxiety symptoms. I'm grateful for every way, shape and form that love has come to me in my life. Grateful for my sacred space. Grateful I finally get to talk to my psychiatrist tomorrow.
Good night.
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