Painsomnia and Emotional Overload: A Mental Health Venting Post

 I had an awful start to my day, and it has left its mark on me.  I only slept for about 3 - 4 hours before I woke up with a bout of painsomnia, which is one of my most hated symptoms.  Painsomnia steals my sleep, my joy and my peace all in one swoop.  Today's episode was compliments of sleeping on my stomach, which causes severe back pain for me.  When I woke up, I could not feel my hips or parts of my legs.  I could not get up and out of bed to make my coffee, use the restroom, find my pain medication, or anything else that I might have needed at the time.  I did the only logical thing that one can do at 3 am in an emergency and I woke up my husband.  He begrudgingly got up and out of bed to help me.  Neither of us were in a particularly good mood at that ungodly hour, but he still made the coffee, got me my medication, then promptly went back to sleep.  

Normally, I would spend the next few hours working on a writing project or something else on my computer, but that just wasn't the case today.  No matter what I tried to do, the dark thoughts kept rising to the surface, threatening to become a bigger problem.  My pain level was through the roof and panic was starting to set in.  Against my better judgment, I chose to wake Michael up to help me and that exploded into a fight.  It got ugly, fast.  He was throwing a fit about not getting enough sleep, as if I didn't get only 3 hours last night, myself.  The fight led into a crying spell that went on and off for the next two hours.  I cried about everything that was bothering me.  I cried about my pain.  I cried about my trauma.  I cried about my stress.  I cried about having mental illness.  I just basically lost it for a while there.  It's the strangest thing, but crying was almost cathartic to me.  Almost.

After I calmed down and was sure that I was done crying, I convinced Michael to go back to sleep for a while.  I knew that he had to go to work today and I felt awful that my meltdown lasted so long that he didn't get to go back to sleep.  He probably doesn't believe me, but that really wasn't my intention today.  It is never my intention to be a bother to anyone.  In fact, I constantly feel burdensome to my loved ones, so I try really hard to "die a little quieter" for their sake.  Apparently, I'm not doing a very good job of that lately.  

Unfortunately, when I have a rough morning, like this morning, it tends to ruin the rest of the day for me.  Sometimes, it will ruin the entire week, depending upon how bad it got before I was able to reel myself in.  My depression has stuck around a bit today, which is difficult because I am also having a hypomanic episode at the same time.  I don't know if I'm coming or going today.  It's just a constant up-and-down, push-and-pull type of dynamic.  I don't know what to do to stop or change it.  When I get upset, it sticks around much longer than is necessary or acceptable.  Sometimes, I think I have something worse than Complex PTSD.  Sometimes, I wonder if my last psychiatrist was right when she diagnosed me with BPD (Borderline Personality Disorder).  I stopped seeing her because she wrote that on my file, but she never had a single conversation with me about it.  I have no respect for a doctor or clinician who cannot communicate about the things that are happening with my body and mind.  I have the right to know what is going on, but they stole that right from me.  I have a new psychiatrist now and I don't think that he would ever do that to me.  

I haven't used any of my tools or coping mechanisms besides journaling and music.  I feel kind of ashamed that I didn't think of any of my tools while I was so upset this morning.  By now, it should be second nature to use them.  When I get upset, I see red, and nothing makes sense.  Logic and reason no longer exist when I get that upset.  I know now that I was in "lizard brain" or the dorsal vagal brain state.  We know that logic and reason do not exist to a person who is currently in that brain state.  We also know that only movement and breathing will help them to get back to a more normal brain state.  Movement is difficult for me because I walk with a cane, but breathing is something that I have been working on for a long time now.  Meditation practice has taught me to breathe without a coach telling me when and how to breathe.  It's kind of nice that I have finally gotten to that point; I just wish I would think about using these tools and tricks of the trade sooner, rather than later.  

Ever since the reprocessing session back in May, I have been a lot more emotional.  I don't mean that in a bad way, either.  I have had blocked emotions for decades after growing up in a household where my emotions were demonized, so it's difficult for me to cry about anything.  I never cry in public or in front of anyone (if I can avoid it), but today, I could not stop myself from crying like a baby.  I cry over big things and little things now.  I cry over sappy Facebook posts and births and weddings now, too.  I never thought that I would become this emotional person, but here it is.  It's happening and I don't know if I want to stop it or not.  Emotions don't feel safe to me, so I don't know what to do with them anymore, besides block them out, deny their existence and move on with the rest of my life, as I have since I was an overly emotional child.  Part of me wants to explore this emotional side of me, but it still doesn't feel safe to show my emotions to the people I live with and love.  What a sad existence when you can't even trust your family with your emotions.  Such is my life...

Until later...