Growing into Me with Bipolar

Posts tagged ‘Weight loss’

Idle Thoughts

First I am thinking that the weather now is completely lovely, and I am so enjoying the feel of it, the temperature of it coming through the open windows.  It makes me feel mellow, dozy, my thoughts drifts and flicker like the light on the leaves, first here, then there, never lingering very long on any one thought.  But many thoughts keep recurring, again and again, not to be put off by the wonderful weather hazing my mind.

The first thought that won’t let go starts out with the possible desire to lose some weight.  I mean, I want to lose some weight, I should lose it.  But I am afraid to actually commit to any kind of exercise or weight loss program, because I am afraid I will either not stick to it or not be successful at losing the weight.  I want to lose it, but I’m afraid to try because I’m afraid I’ll fail.  So instead I go on without any weight loss, pushing the idea of it to the back of my head but yet being reminded everytime I get dressed, go to the doctor, or take a shower.  I’m still a failure, even if I don’t commit to a weight loss plan.  I’m a failure no matter what I do or don’t do….

And the thoughts don’t stop there.  The fluttering leaf that is my thought on weight loss is put aside as another falling leaf grabs my attention, this one about car repairs, and trips, and enough food, enough gas.  I want to provide for my kids.  I want to be self sufficient.  I want to be independent and successful.  I tried to get a job, but no one wants to hire anyone who can only work 4 hours per day.  Not even Target or WalMart.  And I can’t really stay focused on a job for any longer than that.  I can’t even work at the animal shelter anymore, what with dissociating away the fact that I have a scheduled time to be there until hours after I would’ve been back home.  So, ya, apparently I can’t work or even volunteer, because my shortened attention span of only 4 hours is making it so I can’t be hired besides which I can’t even get where I’m supposed to if I blank it all out.  So there are no repairs to the cars, no trips to see my only family, and never enough food in the fridge.  Again, no matter what I try, I still end up failing.

My thoughts drift again and I find myself wondering how I am ever going to get ‘well’ again.  I took a scary, bold step and switched teams at my clinic.  And succeeded! I got a whole new group of people in charge of my ‘case’.  And as soon as I met the RN, I think it’s all going well.  Until the end, when I have to get worked up, scared, anxious and nervous about the blood testing frequency.  But I can’t just let it go, I mean, I see she is beginning to get that hazy, glazed look in her eye.  And that only makes me more determined to make sure she understands how important this is to me.  Which leads, of course, to her humoring me without saying anything just so she can get away, so I will go.  Now I worry I have infected my new team with the same infection of ‘humoring me’ to make me leave, but never really listening to me.

And then the last thought in the chain comes into focus.  What is the point of me?  I can’t work.  I can’t volunteer.  I can’t make my life or my kids’ lives better.  I can’t see the only family I have.  I have cut off my own mother because of her abusiveness.  When my kids leave home in 3 years–what is the purpose of continuing on in this way–with nothing to dream for, no hopes, no nothing but a mere subsistence in an efficiency apartment and live in squalor?  So, why worry about losing the weight, getting a job I can’t get and all the rest?  There’s no reason for me to continue to be once my kids are grown.

And then, ironically, I wonder to myself, ‘am I depressed?’  Or is this just logical?  I don’t feel like ending anything now, just in a while.  And then I realize I don’t even think I have a real self.  I don’t think I am much more than a cardboard construction, two-dimensional, with the ability to do basic tasks, but with no real sense of self, of being, with connectedness and belongingness, and no real emotional connections.  I am a sad shadow, with no friends, 2 elderly cousins for family, and nothing else (excluding my kids, who I live for, but who will leave me in a few years).  How does a shadow live without a purpose, a function?  They don’t.  They fall away.  For a while, recently, I had become optimistic that maybe I would have a reason after they grow up.  But now I see, that will never be.

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