Sometimes I suffer bouts of insomnia. I never know when this will happen. Nor do I like to rely on sleeping pills in order to sleep. I have sleep apnea and must wear a mask, as I tend to stop breathing in my sleep. My husband snores like a buzz saw and I know he has restless leg syndrome, as he kicks weirdly in his sleep, but he flatly refuses to check it out. I am unable to wear ear plugs as they bother me, and so I am the one who generally ends up in the living room on the couch. My CPAP machine in our room as it is a cumbersome device. I awaken every hour on the hour and then feel I had not slept at all.
I have not slept very well these last few weeks and when I don't sleep I get irritable. And when I am impatient and irritable and snap at others, (my husband and sister as they live with me) I feel guilty and then I feel shame. And a shitload of other emotions pile one atop the other. I hate it. I often feel I am drowning, or cannot catch my breath. And those closest to me don't understand this, well face it, my husband doesn't understand this. My sister might, since she has asthma and GAD generalized anxiety disorder.
I feel misunderstood most of the time and not heard. That drives me round the bend. When I have to constantly repeat myself. Communicating with people is exhausting. I have been with my husband close to forty years and he still cannot tell me why he loves me. He cannot name a single attribute other than he thinks that I am pretty. I don't feel pretty not when I get upset and angry and frustrated and rail at him for not understanding what it is I want and need even when I tell him and make my needs known. I am praying a lot these days. There is a constant tightness in my chest. I feel tears behind my eyes that won't come. I feel disconnected. And that concerns me. I have felt this way before and I don't like it.
Thursday, January 29, 2015
The Descent into Madness is Terrifying
I wrote the following two years ago.
Before you were diagnosed did you wonder why certain books, poems, artists, musicians, writers, composers, movies, etc. resonated with you? Did you feel a kinship with its characters, story, background? Did you look in the looking glass, fall down that rabbit hole, take a walk on the wild side in your imagination long before it became a crack in your real world? I have always felt that kinship though it was years before I understood why. The passion and the pain are so profound. I have flown like Icarus so close to the sun and had my wings burned plummeting to the earth faster than the speed of sound, the ears ringing, the mind spinning, the heart beating wildly in my chest, thinking I would die before I hit the ground. You lay there broken, beaten, bleeding and unable to function, fragments of a formal self scattered everywhere, wondering if you shall ever walk, let alone fly again. You gradually begin to crawl, one foot in front of the other, doing all you can to gain your strength. As much as you enjoyed that momentary ecstatic magic, the descent into madness is terrifying. You cannot be there for others when your wings are broken, when you are in a cage, bruised and broken and unable to function. It takes time to process what happened to you. It takes time to find the right treatment and it takes courage to ask for help.
Lynn-Marie.
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