Friday, June 5, 2015

Freaky Friday

Started off okay enough this morning despite little sleep and hardly any food I made it to the lactation consultant appointment on time, just a little harried. The appointment went well and while I felt frustrated I didn't feel overwhelmed until later at the grocery store when I was trying to find the stuff she recommended. I couldn't find what I was looking for, I got teary. My appetite was already suppressed but then I could hardly find something I wanted to eat, just walking became difficult. My mood just went downhill from there.

I cried it out this afternoon while taking care of baby and force feeding myself, took a nap after his afternoon feeding and thought I made a bit of a bounce back but that didn't last long. I slid back down again and couldn't eat the food the hubster prepared for dinner. In fact, I could hardly move. It took me several minutes to make a simple adjustment in my chair, my brain-to-body pathways seemed to be filled with molasses. I could barely speak and made no facial expressions, I was frozen. This after more tears and anger and muscle tension.

Once I got moving again I thought I was going to start rebooting and making my way out of the funk but I slid back again after the hubbo talked about "we'll do things differently this time, there are options." I don't want to go on drugs, I don't want us to be dealing with this all on our own and have the hubbo picking up all the slack and us saving face-and it really doesn't seem like we have options. There is no help around the corner, there is no community support, I was suffering and all I could do was sit and suffer. I ended up sobbing more and even flailing and straining, yelling in an angry outburst.

Eventually I settled back into a little paralysis than earlier, then rolled over to feed the baby again. While I fed him I ruminated on something the hubbo said in response to my weakly mumbled "I want to cut myself." He said, "that's a temporary solution, this is temporary, it'll pass." It struck me. They say suicide is a permanent solution to a temporary problem, but if self harm is a temporary solution for a temporary problem, doesn't that compute? It computed beautifully at the time.

After the feeding I dragged the nearest pair of scissors across my forearm several times. Just deep enough to break the skin and make a burn but not deep enough to bleed. I had begun to feel relief before I even got up to get them, the decision calming me. It would all be better shortly. And it was. After the scratching I felt relieved. I could finally eat, finishing the spaghetti reheat the hubbo presented to me and going for some Ben & Jerry's on top of that. I even drank water. I felt better. Able to smile, move freely, function.

It's hard for me to understand why self harming is such a big deal. I have a feeling it's part of the episode and I may not be in my right mind, but I feel like it helped me a lot tonight. I was ready to lay in bed and marinate in my misery but now I feel like I can get on with life. I hope the feeling sticks around.

Guess we'll see.

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Be well, HBF