Sunday, September 14, 2008

I am not well.

I have gotten very angry at a few different people recently, which is odd, because, ordinarily, I am not a very angry person. It could partially be related to hormonal issues, and beyond that, I do not know what the problem is. I just keep getting ticked off and feeling very irritable. Hence, I managed to utterly and completely destroy the relationship with my closest friend and confidante. I told off my therapist. I told off one of my sisters. The therapist said she was happy to hear she got the supposedly important reaction out of me, that I was pissed off, because she was trying to "provoke" this. I think that's a bunch of therapist mumbo-jumbo nonsense.

My mom came over ostensibly to help me clean my apartment today. After 15 minutes, she could not stand being here any longer, and left. The mess, she said, was too disgusting. I did not blame her for leaving. I mentioned recently that I had gotten the 7000+ emails in my email account from the past 5 years down to about 4,000 in recent days. My mom said, profoundly "That is your whole problem. You need to learn to get rid of things". This is quite true. I hoard junk. Stuff. Paper. Trash. Everything. I know when I started this. In truth, I've never been a neat person. But it was definitely after Jim moved out that I just ceased cleaning altogether. I stopped cooking. I stopped washing dishes. I eventually began to use only disposable dishes (paper plates, styrofoam bowls, plastic spoons - the only thing I eat is often cereal now anyway). I stopped cleaning. Stopped. As in completely stopped. Jim moved out of here in January. It is now mid-September. Nine months of not cleaning anything really creates quite a mess. I have no idea when the last time I took the garbage out was. All I know is it's something I ceased to do at some point. I began to just keep the trash. All of it.

My mother, confused, apparently, at how low I have really gotten, asked, "When did you start KEEPING bowls of cereal and banana peals laying around on the floor or the furniture?" My mother, herself, is a total slob. Her home is not much better than mine, so she can't really criticize me too much. But I used to be better at this stuff. I used to be more functional. My therapist told me, "you are not functioning at your full capacity right now", last week. I know this. Touche.

I am not even functioning at HALF capacity right now. I am barely managing to get through the day at this point. I continuously contemplate slicing my skin up with razor blades, as I used to do many years ago to deal with the angst inside me. I continuously contemplate suicide. I don't really want to be alive right now. And I cannot read anything at this point, so school is just futile, which is really, really not a good thing, considering this is my last year and I have a chance of actually getting a degree soon if I can just do the damn work. At the moment, I feel like I'm one breath away from a hospital trip. I feel like my pulse is barely managing to exist. I don't know what exactly the problem is, but I know I am not well.

The problem with the apartment being in this condition, is that, I have a case manager from the community mental health center whose job dictates that she is supposed to visit me at home every two months and inspect my apartment. She is supposed to check, basically, to make sure I'm not living in squalor, that I have food in the fridge, that my meds are here...It's been a lot more than two months since she's been here, because I've been refusing to let her come over, and coming up with excuses to avoid her visits. The fact is: I am living in squalor, there is no food in the fridge, and I'm about to run out of all my meds, because I had to work the day I was supposed to see my psychiatrist. The fact is that if she saw my home right now, she would probably feel obligated to report me to the other mental health agency which owns my apartment, or to social services or the health department, or something. This is my fear. She promises me she won't do these things, but I don't believe her. She has seen my apartment in terrible condition several times, but she's never seen it when it was this bad. It has never been this bad before. Nobody has seen it like this, except now for my mom.

All I can say to explain it is that the mere thought of cleaning now fills me with such dread I would prefer to come up with a suicide plan than to try to clean this place. It fills me with extreme anxiety to even think about throwing things away, because maybe I'll need them someday, and because the task is so overwhelming it seems impossible. It's so bad now, I have no idea how to manage to clean it all up. Of course, I will clean it up. Of course, it's silly to think that it has to remain in terrible shape. Of course, no boyfriend or ex-boyfriend is worth getting so depressed that you live in squalor. Of course, I'm a feminist and I know that living this way over some guy is ridiculous and stupid. I will pull myself out of this rut, eventually.

I suppose my irritability is partly anxiety, partly hormonal, and partly related to the fact that I'm not eating much. I'm on a strict diet, trying to lose all the weight the medication has made me gain. I know i can lose it; that is not the issue. But to avoid moodiness in the process could be tricky.

I may have to delete this post later. I do not particularly want to be sharing the information written here with, well, anybody. So if it disappears, that is why.

1 comment:

Ken Albin said...

Oh Jen! *hugs* Things will work out eventually. Just stick to the positive thoughts and do what you can. Watch the diet, too. I don't know what type of diet you are on but that can really affect your hormone levels and feelings. Make sure to eat a high protein diet, cutting back on the carbs and fats. That is the healthiest approach to dieting and it will give you a full feeling.

Remember that you have full control over your life and you can do anything you put your mind to. I know you are having problems now but they are all things that can be dealt with. Take a deep breath and relax. Life goes on and you will cope with it. Based on all of your earlier writings I have a lot of faith in you.

I signed up on Facebook, put in my profile, and added you as a friend. Thanks for the invite. You have some interesting photos, especially the New York pictures.
Take care,
Ken

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