Ariel's Two Cents

 I've been on the move for weeks now, but I finally managed to carve out a day for some rest.  It doesn't happen often in my life, but occasionally a day of rest will manifest itself.  I'm grateful when it does happen.  Michael is off work today and for once, we don't have any appointments to attend to.  Normally, we would have my therapy appointment this afternoon, but Lori is out of the country for the next 5 weeks, so I am kind of on my own for getting through any mental hangups that may arise.  I think Michael is enjoying not taking me to town today.  I know it gets overwhelming for him when he literally never gets a day to rest.  No human body can tolerate that for very long.  Instead, we are spending the day together and catching up on some chores around the house. I slept 9 hours last night and the night before, but my body is still screaming at me.  It frustrates me when I get a lot of hours of sleep, but I still feel fatigued....

 I'm having another rest day, and I am not particularly happy about it.  Rest days are still an uphill battle for me.  I am one of the people who has been forced to believe that they only have value when they are productive members of society.  After a lifetime of being told, in no uncertain terms, that it is unacceptable to be unproductive, it's nearly impossible to allow yourself to rest.  This is where I am at now.  I know that my body needs to rest, but my mind will not allow it.  Even when I'm lying down to rest, my brain is going a million miles a minute.  I have Bipolar II and am currently in a hypomanic phase , so resting with racing thoughts is becoming even more difficult than before.   Today's rest day is brought to us courtesy of frying chicken last night.  You got it!  All I did all day long was fry chicken for an hour in the evening, and I am in so much pain today that I can hardly even get out of bed.  I wa...

 The horrors persist, but so do I.  Every morning, I wake up in a fresh version of Hell, filled with pain, agony and lots of cuss words.  This morning was no exception.  It was barely 3:30 am when I was brutally attacked by what some of us spoonies like to call " painsomnia ", which basically means that I was in so much pain that I could not sleep any longer.  I was flaring so badly yesterday that I could not even make it to my group therapy session, so Michael was well-aware that I was feeling under the weather already.  I had to wake him up to help me get my pain medication and a cup of coffee.  He was not very happy with me for needing his help while he wanted to sleep.  My feelings were hurt, but I let it go and told him to go back to sleep while I tried writing for a while.  Well, that didn't help enough, so I needed more medication.  This time the smokable variety.  When I woke him up for help that time, I got yelled at. ...