Tuesday, December 8, 2015

Mental madness pt2

its a strange thing when you lose your mind. people make fun of you when they see the visible signs that you are weird. i make fun of me when i act weird. sometimes i can feel myself being pulled towards things i have no knowledge of. sometimes i make fun of myself for the boys to laugh at.i do it as i am on the very edge of delusions or hallucinations, or my mind just shuts down. if i dont engage people with funny stories and incorporate some very real information about me or my illness.i have been physically sick for 4 months now and i i am gain clarity of thought . i thought this recipe was a winner. make fun of the serious subject that affects all 3 of us, or slip into a catatonic state a place where my quirks are welcome to celebrate or understand those that care.its too bad that my kids arent old enough to appreciate me when i am working the mental illness gig. having a mental illness is bad enough but while i've been talking gibberish and getting more and more feedback from the kids. its either "you're an idiot mum" or "i've had enough, why dont you try talking to yourself". what the kids dont know is that there is method in my madness. when i engage people in conversation, usually its the kids, i am pretty tuned into the kids and i think sometimes thats a good thing. other times its just plain selfish. the selfish behaviour of the mad woman. i get tired doing head laps and i forget to introduce my truth and explain their role in that. 
if i dont connect with someone soon i start to shake, my head tremors. i cant string a sentence together.i feel so embarrassed. i was a very intelligent person, interested in the world i live in. now i'm interested in orchestrating the next day so i make it through to the next.
i get tired , like i am now, jesse called me an idiot.if i was refreshed from sleep and in good physical health i would lap up any indication that we were in fora battle of the familiar mind games. after jesse called me an idiot tonight i ripped into him about name calling and how inaccurate it usually is and i never want to hear him call me names. i really lost it, it was like i snapped. i am so tired of mental illness. i didnt realize that the kids wore so much of it and the only thing holding them togather and dragging me along too, is the knowledge that i wouldnt make it by myself in the real world.
i feel really sad and i have a lack of direction. kobe is home with e. he knows that i am fragile right now.from about 3 months ago until no the kids have been making fun of me, i dont begrudge this strategy, i taught them how to be a smartass and get away with it. i look back 3 months and i dont see much, fever, pain i couldnt alert the nurse of as i couldnt talk. i have my voice back now but i struggle for words. plain, simple words. i dont know if this is my make fun or die recipe or if its a symptom of one of my illnesses. in the back of mind i have a possibility that scares me. i wonder if i am unable to be an intelligent person after i flushed 300 xanax down my throat 18 months ago.i wonder every time i open my mouth if what comes out will be intelligent or will it be immature and irrelevant. and i wonder if jesse jokes will be a source of entertainment. i think logic tells me that i not only explain to the boys that we are living a life full of manic expression or trying to survive through another depression. depression where its a struggle to feel nothing or to be still and as i scan my room, as i often do to try to remember who i am. another fucking talk about mental illness with the kids. and jesse needs some indication when he is unable to tolerate my weirdness. and i need to not snap. i created this life, so i better get busy fine tuning it. again with the references to mechanics and engines. i have a thing for mechanics. maybe its all those t&a calendars. i like to think its because they are so masculine. everything has its place in a work shop. they move with purpose and precision and they know exactly how many turns of the shifter are required. mechanics(the surgeons without god complexes).