give me a week or two to go absolutely cuckoo

by Kate

I’ve been on an upswing. Not a steady one, and not without significant drop-offs here and there, but the last two years of my life have been a time of great improvement. I’m happier, more stable, and more at peace than I’ve ever been before or knew I could be.

Which is why today sucks so much.

Because, oh no, not again.

I have been depressed and anxious much of my life. Well-meaning friends sometimes ask “what are you depressed about?” which says, to me, that they’ve never been clinically depressed. I can always come up with reasons why I don’t feel good, but I’m depressed because I’m depressed because my brain is broken because the gods hate me because I was dropped on my head because my parents liked my brother better because the stars were misaligned on the day of my birth. Whatever. It’s biological. It’s no one’s fault. My body makes too many HOLY SHIT EVERYTHING IS FUCKED AND EVERYONE IS OUT TO GET YOU chemicals and LOVE IS DEAD AND YOU ARE UNLOVABLE AND ALSO UGLY chemicals and not enough YOU ARE HAPPY AND WARM AND EVERYTHING’S AWESOME chemicals to crowd out the screaming from the ones who are constantly flipping the fuck out or trying to get me to slit my wrists.

I take pills. I take them every day because they keep the evil brain chemicals at bay and let the happy brain chemicals skip through the alleys of my addled mind. I’m learning how to be an adult human! It’s interesting! Life is easier when your brain isn’t screaming at you or sobbing at you or telling you that the extremely attractive triathlete who is naked in bed next to you probably doesn’t want you there and wishes you’d go away even though he’s already invited you to stay for brunch in the morning.

The brunch went well. I hardly even embarrassed myself in front of his friends!

I am panicking, and it’s not the fault of or caused by the guy I’m seeing. He just happens to have come along at a time when I seem to be particularly susceptible to panicking.

From an IM conversation I’m having with my friend Michael:

My crazy decided to come out and say HI KATE I AM STILL HERE IN CASE YOU WERE WONDERING!!! WERE YOU ENJOYING YOUR LIFE BECAUSE I WAS THINKING I WOULD LIKE TO SHIT ALL OVER IT.

So that’s happening. And I’m working a temp job, and I want to be working a non-temp job because I’d like to not be living in a garage anymore. And I should be sleeping right now but I’m not sleeping right now because panic attacks are like speed! Not that I’ve done speed! Hopefully getting my feelings out will allow me to relax. Sleep is important, even for the insane.

Last time I started losing my shit, about a year and a half ago, I knew I really needed help because I started feeling like my mom’s cleaning lady was deliberately following me around trying to annoy me by choosing to clean whatever room I was in. Also, I was bursting into tears all the time. That’s never a good sign. So I went back into therapy and got on pills. I think I need to find a doctor and a shrink here in Portland before I start to feel like my roommates are deliberately moving my stuff when I’m at work.

And I need to stop flipping out on the extremely attractive guy who’s been gracious enough to put up with the flipping out I’ve done so far. Awesome Stable Kate isn’t too distant a memory. I’m hoping she comes back soon and kicks Crazy Kate to the curb. For good this time.

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